


All You Are

by comefeedtherainn



Series: All You Are [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Background Grimmons, Fake Dating, M/M, background past Chex, late-in-the-game lemons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8101255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comefeedtherainn/pseuds/comefeedtherainn
Summary: Tucker has a family reunion, some low self esteem, and no plus one. Washington has a free weekend and definitely-not-a-crush on Tucker. The answer is obvious. Besides, these things always work out great in the movies, right?





	1. Chapter 1

“Dad. Dad, what are you doing?”

Tucker didn’t answer, too busy repeatedly banging his forehead against the kitchen table with a dull thud. He caught a glimpse of his son’s face in between blows, his curls wild and his dark brown eyes curious. Or maybe perplexed was a better word. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Tucker mumbled, continuing his self-abuse.

“Um...okay. Doesn’t that hurt?” Junior asked, cocking his head at his father questioningly.

“Kinda.” Tucker sighed and sat up, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead as he glowered at the piece of paper on the table as if it had personally wronged him. “I was hoping maybe I was dreaming and I’d wake up if I hit my head enough times.”

“Oh. Well you’re supposed to pinch for that, not hit your head,” the boy informed him simply. “Is something wrong?” Junior was eight years old - pretty crazy when Tucker thought about it, it seemed like just yesterday the kid was shitting his pants and throwing up every six minutes - and so his days of thinking Tucker was just being weird for no reason were over.

Tucker huffed again and shook his head, getting up to make them both a bowl of cereal before he had to take Junior to school. “No, nothing’s wrong. We’ve gotta go up north in a couple of weeks, though. To grandma’s.”

“...we like grandma, though,” Junior said slowly, staring at Tucker like he’d grown another head.

Tucker scoffed quietly, pouring cereal into two bowls and popping the pieces that accidentally escaped onto the counter into his mouth. Yes, Tucker’s mom was a really cool lady and he was looking forward to visiting her. He was less excited about seeing the whole rest of his family at the impromptu reunion she’d planned. Tucker’s mom had a decent-sized house in the upper peninsula of Michigan, way up where you had to drive forty five minutes to get to the grocery store and people laughed if you asked what their wifi network was. It was a nice place, and once you got past the fact that you were completely disconnected from the outside world in any shape or form, it was very relaxing.

However, family reunions were a completely different story. Tucker had pretty much guaranteed himself a spot as black sheep the second he knocked up Junior’s mom at that party in high school. All of his cousins were studying to become lawyers, nurses, teachers, and he was the one who had a kid at seventeen and waited tables for a living. They were also all married or engaged, every single fucking one of them, and every time they had a holiday gathering it was always, Lavernius, when will you bring somebody nice around for us to meet? Lavernius, when are you going to go back to school and start getting serious about your career? Lavernius, you can’t have an entire bottle of cabernet to yourself!

“Yeah, but it’s a family reunion,” Tucker explained, setting the bowl of Fruit Loops in front of Junior and handing him the milk jug. “And my cousins are all dickweeds.”

Junior nodded solemnly in understanding, carefully lifting the milk jug and pouring it onto his cereal with intense concentration. Tucker was glad for that; last time he’d toppled the whole thing over and they’d been fifteen minutes late dropping him off for school. “Do I have to go?” the boy asked, pulling a face.

“Hell yeah you have to go,” Tucker laughed. “If I have to go, so do you! Plus you’re the only kid right now, so everyone’s gonna wanna pinch your cheeks and ask about school and stuff.”

“Oh man, I hate both of those things!” Junior whined, scowling with his bottom lip pushed out a bit.

“Sucks to be you, kid,” Tucker smirked, nudging him under the table with his foot. He laughed through a grimace when Junior kicked him in retaliation. “Jesus, ow! You wearing steel-toed boots or something?”

Junior just grinned like a little shit and carried on eating his cereal. He glanced at the clock and visibly drooped a few inches. “Do I have to go to school today?”

“Yeah, sorry dude,” Tucker told him, shoveling cereal into his mouth as he checked his phone. “Oh for fuck’s sake. Church!” he called into the apartment, rolling his eyes. “Don’t text me from the other room, you fucking nerd!”

“I didn’t feel like yelling across the fucking apartment first thing in the morning!”

“I am not bringing you coffee in bed, what do I look like?!”

There were a few moments of silence, then stomping footsteps that slowly increased in volume until Leonard Church whirled around the corner in only boxers and thick rimmed glasses. He smacked Tucker upside the head as he passed, then yelped as Tucker whipped around and attempted to give him the biggest wedgie of his entire life. Junior watched with vague amusement, pulling his cereal bowl closer to himself to avoid losing it to a flailing limb.

Church eventually escaped the tussle by yanking the back of Tucker’s shirt up and over his head, scampering away as his friend wrestled the garment out of his face. “Dickhead,” Tucker said with a good-natured huff, blowing his dreads away from his face.

“Fuckface,” Church replied, already holding a gigantic mug of black coffee and gulping like his life depended on it. Tucker often wondered if he burned himself doing that, but then he supposed knowing Church, he did it mostly for that reason. “Aren’t you two gonna be late…?” Church asked as an after thought, glancing at the clock with a thick, black eyebrow raised.

Tucker blinked at the time as well and leapt to his feet. “Shit. Balls.” He grabbed Junior’s bowl, ignoring the muffled protests as the boy still had food in his mouth. “Sorry dude, time’s up! Go get your shoes on.”

While Junior scampered off to do as he was told, Tucker eyed Church suspiciously. “So. You gonna maybe, job hunt today? Or at least get out of bed and take a shower? Or are you just gonna lay around and cry about Tex all day, again?”

“Fuck off,” Church snapped at the mention of his recent ex. Tucker thought he would have gotten over it after the tenth break up or so. “I’ll have you know I’m waiting for the right job to come along. I’m not just going to apply to anything, I have very specific skills.”

“Yeah, and those include coding - badly -, Lord of the Rings trivia, and finishing seventy dollar video games in twenty four hours,” Tucker snorted, grabbing his keys off of the counter. “I’m just saying, man, you’d feel better if you actually left the house.”

“Whatever. Take your fucking kid to school,” Church muttered, glowering out the window as he sipped his coffee like a supervillain. Tucker rolled his eyes but didn’t have time to continue the conversation, bidding Church goodbye and rushing toward the door as Junior called for him to hurry up.

***

“So that’s the shit I’m dealing with.”

Grif looked up from his place lounging in the booth across from Tucker, where he was pretty sure his coworker been dozing off the entire time he’d been unloading about his recent issues. “Were you just talking?”

Tucker rolled his eyes so far back he could almost see his brain hemorrhaging. “Yes, dipshit. Are you gonna help me fold this fucking silverware or not? Just because you’re banging the assistant manager doesn’t mean you get to fucking nap all day.”

“I’m not banging Simmons, for the love of God!” Grif snapped, his chill demeanor instantly disappearing. Tucker bowed his head to hide his snickers as several customers looked over from their tables. It was pretty late into the night so there weren’t any families, thankfully, but they still earned some looks.

“Tucker! Grif!” A squeaky voice hissed from somewhere behind them, and Tucker glanced over his shoulder while Grif just pretended he hadn’t heard anything. A tall, gangly, freckled man with orange hair stomped over to them, scowling more at Grif than anyone. “This is a family environment! Seriously, you guys are gonna get me in trouble!”

“Untwist your panties, Simmons,” Grif drawled, rolling his eyes and leaning back like he was planning on going back to sleep. He grunted and nearly lost his balance when Simmons swatted him on the head with a menu. “Hey, what the fuck?”

“You do not get to sleep on the job, Dex! If I catch you again I’ll kick your ass!” Simmons squeaked, before turning on his heel and stalking off to nervously ask some poor family how their meal was that evening.

“...Dex, huh?” Tucker teased, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, blow me,” Grif muttered, crossing his arms defensively. He perked up considerably when he caught someone waving at Tucker from across the restaurant; one of the super-hardcore bartenders, Washington. “I could say the same to you about your boyfriend, Tucker.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Tucker said for what felt like the millionth time to the millionth person. He didn’t get quite as defensive about it as Grif, frankly because he wasn’t still convinced that he was straight. But that was another story. “We just hang out a lot. It’s not a thing.”

“Sure, man, I get you. Totally not a thing,” Grif snorted, rolling his eyes. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Tucker lifted a hand to wave him off, then blinked and stared across the restaurant at Wash’s face. He did it long enough that the bartender seemed to feel the eyes on him and glanced over again, raising a blonde eyebrow and looking shiftily from side to side before mouthing ‘what?’

“I’ll be right back,” Tucker mumbled, stepping out from behind the booth where he had been folding silverware and making a beeline for the bar. “Sup, Dave,” he greeted, grinning widely as he saw Wash’s eye twitch in irritation.

“Call me that again and I swear I will not hold back on dousing you in tequila this time,” Wash warned, fixing him with a hard, albeit secretly amused, stare before getting back to expertly mixing three drinks at once. “Did you need something?"

“Yeah. So, um...how much do you love me?”

“...I feel like this is a trick question.”

“Don’t be a dick, dude. I need a huge favor. Like, possibly the biggest favor ever, but it’s really important.”

Wash paused what he was doing, frowning at Tucker and slowly lowering the bottles in his hands. “...okay,” he said carefully, cocking his head in confusion. “Shoot.”

“Okay so, there’s this family reunion my mom is hosting in a few weeks,” Tucker began casually, leaning forward with his elbows on the bar as he watched Wash deliver the drinks. “And like, everyone is gonna be there. All my aunts and uncles and cousins.”

“Ah, right. If I remember correctly, you told me specifically about how your cousin Rich was a ‘money-loving bag of donkey dicks’,” Wash supplied, smirking as he was able to give Tucker his full attention.

“Yep, him and all the others will be there. Plus their significant others,” Tucker told him, avoiding Wash’s eyes.

“Uh huh. And what does this have to do with me?”

Tucker hesitated for a moment, trying to find a good way to phrase it, which always meant he ended up being blunt and a bit of an ass. “I need you to come with me and pretend to be my boyfriend so my family doesn’t think I’m a fuck-up.”

Wash’s hand stilled mid-air as he reached for a rag, withdrawing again to rest on the counter in front of him. He stared at Tucker for a few seconds, mouth opening and closing like he wasn’t sure how he wanted to respond. “Tucker...no.”

“Oh come ooooon!” Tucker whined, draping himself dramatically over the counter and pouting at Wash upside down. “Pleeeeease! They’re all fucking married and like lawyers and shit and I’m just the guy who had a kid in high school!”

“That’s not all you are,” Wash corrected him firmly, then sighed heavily. “Tucker, how would me pretending to be your boyfriend help your case in any way?”

“Because you’re super together, dude!” Tucker insisted, standing up straight again and leaning forward earnestly. “You’re polite, and hard-working, you talk like a fucking nerd, parents love that shit!”

Wash lifted his eyes to the ceiling but without any real feeling, used to the ribbing by now. “Be that as it may -”

“See, nerd talk,” Tucker interjected, grinning and catching the dirty rag Wash threw at his face. “Wash, come on. When have I ever asked you for anything? It’s just a weekend at my mom’s place, it’d just be us and Junior in on it. Piece of cake. Junior’s awesome for keeping secrets.”

Wash straightened his back, crossing his arms over his chest and regarding Tucker with a searching look. “What’s in it for me?” he asked eventually.

Tucker faltered; he honestly wasn’t sure what to do now that he’d gotten this far. “Uh...I dunno, man. What do you want? A gun magazine? The blood of your enemies? Seriously, you bartenders are fucking terrifying.”

“How about you do my laundry for a month?” Wash suggested, grinning when Tucker’s face melted into melodrama all over again at the idea. “You complain and there’s no deal, Tucker.”

“Alright, I’ll do your fucking laundry,” Tucker snapped, glowering at the him. “So, we doing this?”

Wash breathed out heavily through his nose and nodded, holding out his hand to shake. “As much as I’m sure I will regret this the second we end this conversation, yes. We’re doing this.”

“Sweet! Thanks dude!” Tucker chirped, grinning brightly and spinning around to scamper back to his post, completely missing the way the smile put a look on Wash’s face like he’d recently been punched in the head.

“Jesus, Wash,” came a voice from behind him. “Try to watch the facial expressions, people might get the wrong idea.”

“Funny, Carolina,” he said dryly as his bartending partner sidled up beside him. “I didn’t have any expression. I was just discussing something with Tucker.”

“I saw that handshake. What have you let him talk you into now?” she asked with a hint of held back laughter.

“I’m honestly not sure. Just...if I don’t come back to work on Monday, assume I’ve died in the boons of northern Michigan.”

“...sure thing, Wash. Good luck with that.”


	2. Chapter 2

     “Junior, where did you put your backpack?” Tucker called into the apartment, huffing and blowing his dreads out of his eyes as he dug around in the hall closet.

     “Which one?” Junior called back, glued in front of the TV playing his new video game, as he had been all week.

     “The one we use when we go to grandma’s! Come on dude, you’re fucking eight, you can help me pack,” Tucker told him sternly. “Save that or I’m gonna turn it off. Don’t make me be a dick.”

     “Alright, alright!” Junior cried, leaning over the console protectively. He saved with lightning speed and then dragged himself to his feet, though his petulant expression softened a bit when he saw how frazzled his father was. “What’s wrong? You look..spazzy.”

     “Hey. Rude,” Tucker said, snorting at how uptight he sounded to his own ears. “This is just...okay, so I gotta tell you something. You remember Wash, right?”

     “The guy you work with, with the cool skateboards?”

     “Yes, that one. Well...he’s on his way over. He’s going up to grandma’s with us.”

     Junior looked at him blankly, blinking once. “Uh. Okay. Why...?”

     Tucker took a deep breath, hoping his kid wouldn’t think he was as pathetic as he thought himself. “Well, I sort of asked him to come with us so he could pretend to be my boyfriend. Because I don’t want uncle Rich and everyone to be assholes about me still being single and stuff. And I need you to play along.”

     More blank staring. Tucker was a little creeped out by how much Junior looked like him, sometimes. “Wait. So...isn’t lying bad?”

     “Yes,” Tucker nodded, not sure how he was going to get away with this one. “Lying is bad. But I’m an adult so I can make shitty decisions and no one can say anything about it. You’re a kid, so you’re gonna learn not to make the same shitty decisions I do. ‘kay?”

     “Uh. Okay. But this is gonna mean I have to lie. To grandma,” he added, eyes widening.

     “I know.” Shiiiiit. “I know. Look. It’s just for the weekend, okay? No big deal. Wash and I will ‘break up’ a few days later and it’ll all be over and you won’t have to lie anymore.” Father of the Year Award. Jesus.

     Junior sighed and shrugged, not looking as bothered as Tucker had feared he might be. “Whatever. I won’t say anything.” He paused, grimacing over his shoulder. “You’re not gonna like...kiss or anything, right?”

     Tucker snorted, rolling his eyes. “Maybe. What, you gonna puke or something?”

     “No! Kissing’s just weird!” Junior huffed, looking embarrassed.

     “Uh huh. Tell me that again in five years.”

     Junior stuck his tongue out and continued on to his room, and Tucker could hear sounds of him shuffling around in his own closet. “Found it!” he called eventually, and Tucker sighed in relief.

     “Thank god, okay, shove those clothes I put on your bed in there and get your toothbrush!” He got to his feet and rushed to his own bedroom to do the exact same thing, nearly jumping out of his skin when his phone starting ringing. “Jesus fucking tits, Wash, you scared the shit out of me.”

     “...sorry?” Wash snorted over the phone. “I’m pulling up on your street. Is there somewhere I can park over the weekend where I won’t get towed?”

     “The side street has no meters. Ellicott,” Tucker told him breathlessly. “Just come up, dude, the door is open. Junior and I are still shoving shit in bags.”

     “Okay. Do you need anything?” Wash asked, the frown evident in his voice. Tucker couldn’t help but smile through his feverish panting and packing.

     “Nah, dude, we’re good. We’ll be ready soon, just come chill in the living room or something.”

     “Alright. I’ll be up in a few, I’m parking.”

     “Cool.” Tucker hung up, tossing the phone onto the bed. The sound of their front door closing sounded throughout the apartment a few minutes later, and Tucker stuck his head out of the bedroom. “Sup. We’re a tornado right now, don’t mind us.”

     “Okay,” Wash snorted, the corner of his mouth quirking a bit.

     He turned into the kitchen instead of the living room, and Tucker sighed in relief as he heard the coffee maker start a minute later. “I fucking love you, man!” He grinned as he just heard Wash snickering to himself, and continued shoving nearly every shirt he owned into a suitcase.

     Ten minutes later, both bedrooms were destroyed, and the packing was complete. Junior sat on the floor near the front door and tied his shoes, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, and Tucker double checked that everything was off that could explode or spike their electric bill. “Okay. Who’s ready for a fucking road trip?”

     “Me!” Junior grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You’ll like grandma’s place, Wash. There’s almost no people around, and dad says you hate people.”

     “...nice,” Wash deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at Tucker. “I do not hate people, I’m a bartender.”

     “You can be a good bartender and still hate people,” Tucker grinned. “People mostly just come for your drinks, not your personality. That’s what Florida’s for.”

     Wash rolled his eyes with another understated smile. “Alright, let’s go. If we leave now we can beat the traffic.”

     “God, my family is gonna love you,” Tucker snorted, grabbing his keys off of the hook by the door and double-checking that he and Junior had everything they needed. “You remembered the toothbrush, J?”

     “Yeah, dad, I got the toothbrush,” Junior sighed, giving Wash an exasperated look. “Do you see what I deal with?”

     Wash laughed in surprise, then tried to stifle it, looking at Tucker apologetically. Tucker just scoffed and smirked, leading the way out. “You watch way too much TV, dude. I don’t know where else you get this stuff.”

     They all made their way down to the car, Tucker tossing his suitcase and Junior’s backpack into the trunk. He grinned as he noticed Wash had packed light, only having brought a backpack himself. “Packing light for a quick getaway, Wash? Smart.”

     Wash laughed, sliding into the passenger seat as Tucker climbed behind the wheel and Junior buckled himself in in back. “Honestly, no. Is it really going to be that bad?”

     Tucker sighed, glancing in the rear view both to glance at Junior and to watch where he was going as he backed out of his parking space. “No? I don’t know. I’m just expecting a lot of questions, and comments about...you know, my life. They always like to tell me all about the cool shit they’re doing and then ask what I”m up to, as if they don’t know.”

     “We could make something up,” Wash smirked. “Tell them you’re...” he trailed off, trying to think.

     “An astronaut!” Junior piped up, grinning at his own joke. “Or a football player. Or a hairdresser,” he added, bursting into a fit of giggles.

     “Shut up,” Tucker snickered, reaching back to swat playfully at him and nearly giving Wash a heart attack. “Relax, I have my other hand on the wheel! Oh god, are you gonna backseat drive the whole time?”

     “No,” Wash sniffed, crossing his arms. “...that light is yellow, Tucker, break.”

     “Ugh,” Tucker groaned, elbowing him. “Don’t, or I swear I’ll make you sit in back with Junior. I’ll put you in fucking time out.”

     “You wouldn’t,” Wash scoffed, smirking at him. “Then you’d be all alone up here.”

     “I’d love the peace and quiet, to be honest.”

     They were all quiet for a bit as Tucker navigated toward the highway and Wash fiddled with the radio, landing on a classic rock station. “So,” he said into the otherwise silence, and Tucker raised his brows to let him know he was listening. “You said this was a family reunion?”

     “Basically. My cousin Rich just got engaged, my cousin Yvette got a new job, and there’ve been birthdays and shit recently, so it’s basically to celebrate all that,” Tucker explained, shrugging both shoulders. “My mom lives like up in the middle of fucking nowhere, and has a really nice yard next to a river and shit, it’s really cool. So we all do reunions there once in a while.”

     “That’s nice. Or...is it?” Wash frowned, unsure.

     Tucker sighed heavily. “Look. My family means well, you know? They want me to make something of myself, which, like, okay, great. That’s great, except I already have. I’m a dad. It’s the coolest fucking job in the world.”

     “Weak, dad.”

     “Shut up, I’m serious!” Tucker huffed, glaring playfully at Junior in the rear-view. He waited until Junior snickered and put his earphones back on before continuing. “And I like my job, you know? Pays the bills, I can buy stuff for Junior, it’s all good. But to them I’m still the dude that had a kid at seventeen and never went to college, still waiting fucking tables even though he’s got an eight year old, blah, blah. It’s so fucking dumb, like there’s only one right way to be successful.”

     Wash nodded, silent with a contemplative expression for a long time. “I’m sorry that they make you feel like you have to justify your life to them,” he said eventually, in a soft voice that made Tucker glance at him from the corner of his eye. “I think you’re doing great, if that helps at all. You’re a good dad, and a good friend.”

     “Jesus,” Tucker replied, his face burning just a little bit. “I mean, thanks, man. That’s...that’s nice of you to say.” How the fuck do you even take a complement like that? Fuck.

     “Sure,” Wash shrugged, his own ears as red as Tucker’s felt. “I’m just telling you the truth. You shouldn’t feel like you need to justify anything. You’re...doing fine.”

     Tucker nodded awkwardly, squeezing and releasing the steering wheel to relieve the odd prickling in his fingertips. “How much did you have to nag Simmons to let you take the weekend off? You and Lina are his saving grace on Saturday nights.” Anything for a fucking subject change, even if it was talking about work.

     “I had to promise to work a double the next two weekends,” Wash grinned. “Worth it. I’m getting my laundry done for me now, so I won’t have to worry about that.”

     “Fuck off,” Tucker snickered, grinning at him from the corner of his eye. “I bet you have disgusting laundry with all the running you do. Oh god, do I have to do your socks?!”

     Wash didn’t answer, just threw his head back and laughed. Tucker felt it again, the punched-in-the-head sensation he’d been getting around Wash recently. Along with a weird fluttering in his chest. Maybe he was coming down with something. Maybe he was so nervous he was feeling ill. Weird.

     “How long is this drive?” Junior asked from the back, already looking a little fidgety.

     “About three hours, dude,” Tucker told him apologetically. “Your iPad’s in your backpack. I stuck your fidget stuff in there too.”

     “Awesome, thanks dad,” Junior said brightly, digging into his pack for his tablet, the cover sky blue and littered with worn out stickers. He stick his headphones over his head and began swiping away, looking much more content.

     “He have trouble sitting still?” Wash asked with a smile.

     “Yeah,” Tucker scoffed, lightly. “I don’t make him take his meds on the weekends. They’re kinda shitty for his mood. Plus he never wants to eat while he’s on them, and my mom will be up my ass about that, make no fucking mistake.”

     Wash laughed quietly, nodding. He stared at Tucker for a moment, a weird, almost soft look to his eyes and the tilt of his mouth. Tucker glanced at him, and their eyes met for a milisecond before Wash quickly glanced out the window.

     After an hour or so of driving, Tucker was starting to feel restless himself. “Wash, tell me a story.”

     “...what?”

     “Come on, you know. A story! We’ve been working together for like, three years, and I still feel like I hardly know you.”

     “You know me plenty. Once you’ve held back my hair while I vomit tequila, you know me.”

     Tucker laughed, loud enough that Junior glanced up at him with his headphones still on. “Okay, fair. But still. Tell me something. Like, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

     Wash snorted, raising an eyebrow at him. “What about me makes you think I’ve done anything crazy?”

     “Everything!” Tucker insisted with a grin. “You have the ‘I did crazy shit in college’ look all over your face, dude.”

     Wash looked like he might be about to scoff again, then he slowly shrugged. “I...well. I was in a bar fight once.”

     “No fucking way!” Tucker cried, instantly lighting up in interest. “Did you start it?”

     “...I may have.”

     “Oh my fuck, spill!”

     “I was with my girlfriend at the time,” Wash laughed, amused by Tucker’s reaction. “And I left for a second to go to the bathroom. When I came back a few guys were hitting on her, so I told them to back off. One of them called me freckles, so I smashed a bottle over his head.”

     “Jesus fucking christ, that’s amazing,” Tucker breathed in awe. “Did you win?”

     “Pft, no. I got my ass kicked. But it was pretty damn cool.”

     Tucker crowed happily, grinning ear to ear. “Damn right it was! I bet you looked so badass.”

     “I have no idea. I was decently intoxicated by this time of the night.”

     They both snickered, going silent for a few moments as their smiles faded a bit in the lull of conversation. “What about you?” Wash prodded. “Craziest thing?”

     “Uh...” Tucker hummed, frowning as he tried to think through all of the weird shit he’d done as a teen and early twenty-something. “Oh! There was this one time, I snuck into a frat party with my friends, and I literally stole like six fifths of liquor.”

     “...how?” Wash asked, laughing slightly in amusement. “Did you stick them up your shirt?”

     “And down my pants,” Tucker smirked proudly. “Running away from frat guys with bottles in your clothes is way harder than it looks, by the way.”

     “Jesus,” Wash snickered, shaking his head. “I’m not sure who wins that one.”

     “I think we’re tied for craziest asshole in Blood Gulch.”

     Another twenty minutes or so went by, and Junior pulled off his headphones. “Dad, I have to pee.”

     “’kay, there’s a rest stop in a couple miles. Anyone hungry?”

     “McDonalds,” Junior piped up, barely letting Tucker finish his sentence. “...please,” he added as an afterthought.

     Tucker snorted and shook his head with a fond, crooked smile. “Yeah, I know, J. You always want McDonalds.”

     They pulled off at the next rest stop, letting Junior hit the bathroom and then grabbing food from the McDonalds as well. They headed to the car with their bags, and the fuel was enough to get them through the last hour stretch. Wash pressed his forehead to the window to watch the scenery, the trees becoming more and more dense the further from civilization they drove. Soon they found themselves turning off of the pavement and onto a narrow, winding dirt road. Tucker clung close to the right side so as to avoid any cars that may be oncoming, laughing as Wash looked a bit nervous at the decently steep drop off of the road. “Shouldn’t there be railings or something?” he asked, a bit tensely.

     “Nah,” Tucker grinned. “Railings are for the weak. Oh, this is it.”

     Wash honestly had no idea what he was talking about until they began pulling into the tiny driveway, the only indicator of it’s presence being a rusted mailbox, painted white with colorful flowers. They were all jostled from side to side as they made their way up the dirt and gravel drive, and Tucker pulled up to park on the grass underneath a large tree.

     Tucker’s mom’s house was almost a two story cabin, large but still managing to fit in with the nature surrounding it. The paint on the wood was chipping, a screened in sun room jutted off of the left-hand side, and the river Tucker had mentioned was only steps away, winding around the property before continuing on and out of sight. Just beside it, a well-used hammock swung in the breeze, and a firepit still filled with ashes and surrounded by fold-out chairs sat several feet in the foreground.

     “This place is so beautiful,” Wash marveled, looking around in awe.

     “I know,” Tucker smiled, nudging him playfully. “You’ll be less charmed when you realize there’s no cell service, though.” He got out of the car, straightening his clothes briefly before going around back to retrieve bags. Junior seemed to be taking care of his own things, packing up his tablet and headphones again and zipping his bag tight. It was easy to forget how old he was; he was just as vertically challenged as his father, much smaller than other eight year olds.

     “Alright,” Tucker said, heaving a huge sigh. “Ready to be my boyfriend, Wash?”

     “As I’ll ever be,” Wash laughed, giving Tucker a reassuring smile. “It’s all gonna be fine. Just one weekend, right?”

     “Right. Just one weekend.”

     They both squared their shoulders and marched toward the door, and Tucker lifted his hand to rap on the door three times. After a few moments a small, curvy woman who looked almost exactly like Tucker opened the door. “Lavernius, you made it,” she beamed, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a crushing hug. “How was your drive, sweetpea?”

     “Not bad, mama,” Tucker smiled, stepping aside so Junior could hug his grandma. “Traffic was pretty decent, actually. This is my...boyfriend, David. He likes ‘Wash’, though.” Jesus, for a moment there he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to choke up the words.

     “’Wash,’ huh?” Tucker’s mom mused, looking Wash up and down in interest. Then she pulled him in for a hug as well, squeezing tightly before letting him go. “It’s good to meet you, honey. You can call me Lavern.”

     “Nice to meet you too, um, Lavern,” Wash smiled, feeling a little guilty already. He pushed it aside, though, for Tucker’s sake. He glanced as Tucker trying to waddle his way through the door with his large suitcase, and instantly jumped on the opportunity to Boyfriend in front of Lavern. “Here, let me get that for you.”

     Tucker looked at him oddly for a second, then seemed to realize what he was doing and grinned. “So sweet,” he teased, letting Wash take the suitcase underneath one arm with ease. He stared for a moment, looking a little dumbstruck, then shook his head and continued inside. “Come on, J, let’s put your stuff upstairs.”

     “Where’s Freckles?”Junior asked excitedly, looking around with wide eyes.

     “He’s outside socializing with the others, honey,” Lavern told him. “His treats are in the kitchen if you wanna play with him.”

     Junior whooped excitedly and promptly dumped his backpack on the ground, leaving it at Tucker’s feet. “Nice,” Tucker said dryly, picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder.

     Lavern laughed and patted his arm. “He’s had a long drive, Vern. Let him run around a bit.”

     Wash smirked at the nickname and raised his eyebrows at Tucker, holding in a snicker as he mouthed ‘fuck you’ back at him. “Your house is beautiful, Lavern,” Wash said instead. “Very peaceful.”

     “How sweet of you,” Lavern said brightly, patting his cheek briefly. “I moved up here after I retired, it’s nice to get away from the people and traffic and all that nonsense.” She led the way up the stairs, opening the door to a small, quanitly decorated room with a double bed, a chest, and a vanity table. “This is you two. Rich and Tiya got here first and took the big room, sorry, boys.”

     “Of course they did,” Tucker muttered, low enough that only Wash could hear him. He helped Wash set their bags on the bed, cracking his back with a groan. “Junior gonna be next door?”

     “Yep, I’ve already got him all set up in there with the other kids,” Lavern nodded, holding out her hand. “I’ll take his backpack in there, you two go out back and say hello.”

     “Can’t wait,” Tucker mumbled, looking up at Wash. “Ready?”

     “Yeah, let’s go,” Wash smiled, pausing before reaching to take his hand. It was warm, and soft, and Lavern smiled widely, so it appeared to have been the right thing to do. Tucker looked pleased himself, which was a little odd, but maybe he was just happy that Wash was playing along so well.

     They descended the stairs together, Tucker appearing to be engaged in deep breathing exercises. Without really thinking about it, Wash squeezed his hand in an attempt at comfort. Tucker’s shoulders relaxed slightly, so he figured it had worked.

     Tucker slide the screen door aside that led to the back, having to do so slowly as it kept catching on it’s track, before stepping outside. Wash slid it shut again, the noise drawing the attention of the -holy shit, fairly large - group in front of them. Tucker’s family. Or most of them, anyway. As soon as everyone registered who it was they all cried out greetings, several people getting up to clap Tucker on the back, shake his hand, or give him a hug. Tucker smiled widely, looking thrilled despite his earlier trepidation. Wash still wasn’t sure how Tucker felt about his family, or how he was supposed to feel in turn.

     “Lavernius!” a tall man in a trim sweater and black-rimmed glasses greeted, reaching out to shake Tucker’s hand firmly. “Glad you could make it.”

     “Thanks, Rich,” Tucker replied, plastering on a thin smile. “Nice to see you. Hey, Tiya,” he added as Rich’s fiancee approached, her hair up in an intricate bun and her smile almost as overly wide as Rich’s.

     “Hi, Lavernius,” she beamed, hugging him and kissing him on both cheeks. “So good to see you and Junior!”

     “Yeah. Oh, this is my boyfriend, Wash,” Tucker introduced, moving aside so Wash could shake hands.

     “Wash,” Rich said, looking a bit confused by the strange name but shaking hands firmly nonetheless. “Great to meet you. We were wondering when Lavernius was going to bring someone around.”

     “I’ve brought people,” Tucker protested. “I mean, it’s been a while, but...”

     “Well, someone worth bringing, then,” Rich amended, still smiling even as Tucker bristled. “Come on over, you two, we’ve just broken out the drinks!”

     “Thank fuck,” Tucker muttered, letting Rich and Tiya walk on ahead so he could fume to himself for a bit.

     “Who was the last person you brought around?” Wash asked, raising an eyebrow. How bad could they have possibly been, for Rich to say something like that?

     Tucker scoffed bitterly, pursing his lips. “Junior’s mom. Rich is a fuckwit.”

     “I can tell,” Wash said seriously, frowning a bit. “Does he say things like that around Junior?”

     “Not even if he doesn’t want a fat fucking lip.” Tucker took a deep breath, the lines in his forehead smoothing. “Forget it. Let’s just...go drink free beer and get drunk enough to stop caring.”

     “Sounds good to me,” Wash agreed, reaching to take Tucker’s hand again. It really shouldn’t feel so natural, and he knew he ought to be a bit concerned that it was, but he just kept telling himself that it was for the good of the facade. The pair of them marched toward the gathering of Tuckers, trying to ignore the cloud of impending doom hanging over their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slides in with an update ten months later* OH SHIT WADDUP
> 
> trying to get myself on a regular update schedule now that Life has decided to stop Being on Fire. Stay tuned!
> 
> find me on tumblr @comefeedtherainn


	3. Chapter 3

“So, how did you two meet?”

“Work,” Tucker explained, smiling up at Wash while his aunt nodded in polite interest. “Wash is a bartender at my restaurant.”

“You mean the restaurant you work at,” Rich corrected, smiling with crinkly eyes.

Tucker’s jaw visibly clenched but he smiled thinly back, squinting at his cousin irritably. “Right. Yes. Thanks for the correction, totally necessary.”

“Lavernius,” his mother warned lowly under her breath. “Behave.”

Tucker scowled even deeper at that, his nostrils flaring a bit, and Wash hurriedly interjected. “Technically we actually met at a staff party,” he elaborated, laying a hand on Tucker’s knee. It felt way more natural than it should and he screamed internally as he continued. “We were finalists in a beer po- uh. Ping pong contest.”

“Nah, it was beer pong,” Tucker smirked, almost preening as a few of his family members side-eyed each other. “And I totally won.”

“On a technicality,” Wash scoffed, rolling his eyes with a small smile. He blinked when an aunt clutched her heart, then realized they must be being Cute. He amped it up a little by slipping his arm around Tucker’s waist.

“So do you just bartend, Wash?” Rich asked, leaning back in his chair with his ankle resting on his opposite knee. Tucker zeroed in on his weird fucking 80’s carpet patterned socks, tilting his head to the side while Wash sat up a bit straighter.

“No, I’m also in school,” Wash told him with a polite smile. “I bartend nights and weekends. I also teach kickboxing.”

“He’s really good,” Tucker piped up, grinning as he got to brag a bit. “He used to compete and got like, a million medals and shit.”

“Two,” Wash amended modestly, lifting the corner of his mouth. “And they were only regional competitions.”

“Only,” Tucker scoffed, grinning up at him. He got a little distracted by the way Wash’s neck flushed as he smirked at the ground.

“Well, one of you needs to have some modesty,” Lavern grinned, pinching Tucker’s cheek affectionately. “Lavernius has always been such a confident boy. Always wanted to show off. You know, when he was little, he used to perform karaoke for me and his daddy in the living r-”

“Mama, oh my god,” Tucker groaned, pulling his hood over his eyes and sinking down in his chair.

Wash grinned ear to ear, leaning forward. “Please, Lavern. Go on.”

The afternoon passed in a similar way, Tucker relieved that the worst so far had been Rich being a smartass and his mother being embarrassing. He wrangled Junior as the smell of burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air. “Hey kid, help me set the tables for grandma.”

“’Kay.” Junior followed him inside, Freckles trotting along beside him. They entered the small kitchen, the linoleum tiles creaking underneath their feet. Tucker stood up on his toes as he searched the cupboards, huffing as he tried to reach the glasses on the top shelf. He blinked as a large, freckled hand appeared above his own, retrieving the glass with ease. He spun around and found himself face-to-face with Wash’s pecs, which, nice, but also - “Dude, do you need to sneak up on me like that? Jesus,” Tucker huffed, his grin the only thing betraying his facade. “Thanks,” he murmured, taking the glass Wash held out for him.

“Sure,” Wash laughed, quiet and in his throat. Tucker felt his entire body go warm at once and frowned, leaning over to open the window. A/C must be busted again. “Need help?” Wash continued, watching as Tucker began piling plates into Junior’s dutifully outstretched arms.

“Sure, dude,” Tucker agreed, nodding to the stacks of cups he’d created. “Can you get those and the silverware?”

Wash nodded and stuck the silverware in a cup before picking up three towers at once, as only a person in food service could. He followed Tucker back out to the handful of long picnic tables in the yard, following behind Junior laying out plates. Lavern noticed their efforts and beamed, kissing Wash noisily on the cheek and thanking them for being sweet and helpful. Wash felt his face heating up a bit in shame, and avoided Tucker’s eyes.

Everyone gathered to sit, Lavern leading them all in a prayer before digging in. Wash peeked through one eye to watch as Tucker bowed his head, having not known him to be religious. He smiled fondly as Tucker had to nudge Junior a few times for fidgeting, and once for trying to sneak a bite while everyone’s eyes were closed. Once the prayer was concluded, everyone lifted their heads and the noisy chatter resumed.

“Dad. There’s onion on my burger.”

“So pick it off,” Tucker snorted, giving Junior a look. “What do I look like?”

“An onion picker,” Junior smirked, squawked when Tucker shoved him. “Hey!” he yelped, shoving him right back. Lavern turned in her seat and stared them both down, not looking away until their backs were straight and their hands were to themselves.

Wash bowed his head as he snickered, having to put down his glass. “Your mom is cool,” he told Tucker, his smile fading just a bit as the guilt gnawed at his gut briefly again. “And very patient.”

“Yeah,” Tucker laughed, grinning. “She had to be, to survive me and my dad in the same house. He was just as fucking hyper. Talked just as loud too.”

Wash softened seeing the fond sadness in Tucker’s eyes. “He sounds like a cool guy, too.”

“He totally was. The coolest,” Tucker agreed, brightening up again. “Taught me how to appreciate life, y’know?” He stopped there, turning back to his plate and his smile getting a little awkward. Apparently, that was enough sharing. Wash turned back to his own food, smiling a bit.

They sat in comfortable silence, all three of them looking up as they were suddenly joined by Rich and Tiya. “You three looked lonely,” Rich declared, grinning his semi-alarming, definitely blinding grin. “Hope you don’t mind if we join you!”

“Hey, Rich,” Tucker half-sighed, putting on a smile. “How’s life?”

“Not bad,” Rich laughed, a weird, bright, soulless kind of sound. “Tiya and I have been looking at wedding venues. Well, mostly Tiya. I tend to stay out of it, I’m just useless at that sort of thing.”

Tiya let out a tinkling giggle and patted his shoulder. Tucker’s expression was carefully blank, which Wash knew meant he was trying to behave himself. “He really is! But that’s alright, I’ll just let him handle the bar,” she joked, grinning a billion watt smile up at Rich.

“Haha, yeah,” Tucker forced out, looking around like he was searching for an escape route.

“You guys wanna see some pictures?” Tiya asked, pulling them up and putting her phone in their faces before they could answer. All of the venues appeared to be very extravagant, with large ballrooms and outdoor alters surrounded by vines and stonework. They were very pretty, though not really Wash’s style, so he just smiled and nodded politely.

“Looks pricey,” Tucker commented, eyebrows raising.

Rich shrugged, and Wash tried to decide if his expression was smug or not. Something was off, anyway. “Nothing’s too much for my best girl,” Rich declared, reaching to play with the chandelier earring hanging from Tiya’s ear.

“Jesus,” Tucker muttered. Wash thought he saw Rich glance at him, but he couldn’t be sure.

“So, Junior,” Rich said, turning to him and smiling. “How’s school?”

“It’s okay,” Junior told him, looking like he’d rather not talk about it right that second.

“Yeah? You still having trouble with concentrating, bud?”

Junior sank a little further down in his seat, shrugging and looking at his food. “I dunno. I take my pills and that usually helps.”

“Mm, I see,” Rich nodded, frowning slightly and looking at Tucker with concern. “Are you sure a boy his age should be taking those?”

“His doctor said they’re fine,” Tucker told him stiffly. “There’s a lot of research about the brand he takes, he showed me articles and shit.”

“Still, I’ve heard bad things about those kinds of medications,” Richard told him importantly, crossing his arms and tilting his head. “Could stunt his growth. Not to mention affect his appetite and mood. Are you sure he shouldn’t be-”

“Fuck me,” Tucker muttered, sitting up suddenly. “Wash, come on. I wanna show you something.”

Wash stood before Tucker had even finished speaking. He didn’t look at Rich, instead placing a hand on Junior’s shoulder and urging him to follow his father. Junior took the hand Tucker held out, and the three of them escaped the cluster of picnic tables.

Tucker led them toward the river that ran quietly past the property. Wash followed close behind them, a kind of anger on Junior’s behalf settled in his stomach. Tucker let go of his son’s hand once they approached the edge of the grass,reaching down to slip off his shoes and socks and then padding onto the patch of sand just before the water. He looked over his shoulder and beckoned impatiently when Wash stayed where he was. “Come on, man. Unless you wanna go talk about wedding venues with my cousin again,” he smirked.

Wash shook his head quickly and pushed his toes against the heels of his shoes to remove them. “No thank you,” he said dryly, grinning when Junior snickered. He had already thrown his shoes and socks somewhere off in the grass and jogged up to stand beside his father, the pair of them rolling up their jeans. Wash watched them fondly, smiling as Tucker bumped Junior with his hip in an attempt to knock him over.

Tucker reached out a foot and carefully dipped a toe in the water. “Holy fuck, yep,” he gasped, pulling it right back. “That’s fucking cold.”

“So, why are we gonna walk in it?” Wash asked, halfway through rolling up his own pant leg.

“We have a contest to see who can go in the farthest!” Junior piped up excitedly.

“Wait…but we have clothes on.”

“And there’s dry ones in the house! Don’t be a baby, Wash,” Tucker grinned.

“Yeah, come on Wash!”

Wash grimaced as two identical pairs of big, brown eyes blinked imploringly at him. “Ugh, alright, alright,” he groaned, coming to stand on Tucker’s other side. “I’m gonna win, by the way.”

“Bullshit, dude,” Tucker snickered, grinning widely. “I always win.”

“Do not!” Junior cried indignantly. “I totally won last time.”

“I think your memory’s bad, J,” Tucker argued, cackling when Junior looked like steam might come out of his ears. “Chill, I’m kidding!”

Junior huffed and stomped up to the water, taking a deep breath before hurrying in until he was ankle deep. He squeaked, eyes squeezing shut and shifting from foot to foot, his curls bouncing with him. “Coooold!”

Tucker snickered and followed him, gasping sharply. He schooled his expression immediately, clenching his jaw. “I’m fine. This is fine.”

Junior giggled, grinning up at him. He then turned and waved Wash over.  
“Come on!”

Wash laughed and waved him off, approaching the water slowly. He carefully stuck a toe in, grimaced, then took a breath and walked in.

Tucker grinned wider, staring at him with raised eyebrows. “So? How is it?”

“Fine,” Wash said a little strained. “Just…gotta wait for my feet to go numb, that’s all.”

Tucker and Junior both snickered at him, each of them still shifting around on their feet. After they felt like they could handle it without dying, they walk further, until they were knee deep. The ends of Wash’s jeans were lapped with water, but he couldn’t find himself to care when he was nearly crying laughing at Tucker swearing up a storm and Junior cackling beside him.

“Don’t laugh at your father, you little shit!” Tucker cried, bouncing from foot to foot and shaking his hands around like that was going to help anything.

“Don’t be so funny then!” Junior retorted, laughing harder when Tucker almost slipped and fell. “Dude!”

“I’m cool, I’m fine, I’ve got it,” Tucker sniffed, steadying himself. He narrowed his eyes at Wash, who was still giggling helplessly at him. “Yeah? You think that’s funny, Washington?” He bent down and cupped his hand, flicking water almost directly into Wash’s face.

Wash paused, his jaw dropping as Junior’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’. Wash squinted challengingly, lifting a foot and kicking a cascade of freezing water onto Tucker’s still-dry torso.

Tucker burst into shocked half-laughing and half-screaming. “Wash, what the FUCK?!” He retaliated with his own kick, and Junior swooped in to help, and within minutes they were all soaking wet and gasping for air as they laughed.

“Oh man,” Tucker snickered, hugging himself and shivering. “I just realized my hair is gonna be fu-hu-hucked up.”

Wash felt a little bad for that, and he smiled apologetically. “I’ll pay for it if you need to like, go in and get it fixed.”

“Nah,” Tucker scoffed, waving him off. “I’ve got shit at home. I’m just gonna look a little…uh…rung out until we get back.”

Junior giggled as Tucker leaned over to squeeze out his dreads carefully. “You started it.”

“I did. I did start it,” Tucker sighed, grinning at Wash and winking. Wash laughed quietly, looking away and hoping his blush wasn’t too obvious. Being Tucker’s fake boyfriend felt way too rewarding. Maybe he should go talk to Lavern some more, get less comfortable.

As if summoned, Tucker’s mom approached the edge of the river and crossed her arms, the hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. Tucker grinned toothily at her and waded toward her, Junior on his heels. “Hey, mama. Wanna go swimming?”

“No thank you,” she smirked. “You three are gonna catch your death, playing out there. It’s nearly dark out.”

“We’re going to dry off, don’t worry,” Tucker grinned, stooping to give her a cold, wet smooch on her cheek. She squawked and swatted at him with the dishrag in her hand, watching him take off cackling toward the house with his son.

Wash made to follow after them, but paused when Lavern laid a hand on his still-damp arm. She looked up at him with a soft expression that made his face go completely red. “You two look real good together,” she told him, squeezing gently. “It’s nice to see the three of you getting along so well.”

“Yeah,” Wash said awkwardly, shrugging. “I…well, Tucker and Junior mean a lot to me.” It wasn’t a lie, and even if he didn’t have a weird crush on Tucker it wouldn’t be a lie. He still could hardly meet her eyes, though, shame a brick in his stomach.

Lavern nodded and smiled a bit wider, patting his back. “Go on. Your lips are turning blue, boy,” she grinned, nudging him toward the house. Wash laughed weakly and nodded, turning forward again and breaking into a light jog.

He followed the drips of water through the kitchen and up the stairs, finding Tucker and Junior in the upstairs bathroom. They appeared to have changed and mostly dried off already, Junior sitting on the toilet lid while Tucker carefully squeezed out his hair for him with a towel. He glanced up and grinned at Wash. “There you are! Thought you might’ve frozen to death,” he teased, kicking a spare towel toward him. “Here.”

Wash bent to pick up the towel, shivering now that he was inside the house. “Th-thanks,” he stuttered, shuffling into the other room to change into dry clothes. He heard the screech of the shower turning on, and Tucker came out of the bathroom alone.

“Gave the kid first dibs on the shower. Because I’m just a giving kind of guy,” Tucker smirked, flopping onto the bed. He glanced at it, frowning. “…wait, are we gonna have to share?”

Wash blinked, staring at it as well. “Uh. I could sleep on the floor. I guess.”

“I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor, dude.”

“Couch?”

“People would notice and get weird. No way.”

“Well,” Wash huffed, crossing his arms. “I guess we’ll have to share then.”

“Guess so,” Tucker shrugged. He didn’t look nearly as mortified about it as Wash felt, which somehow made it worse.

Junior came out of the bathroom a bit later looking tired, his eyes half lidded as he shuffled into the room in his pajamas. He whined when Tucker told him it was time for bed, though he stopped abruptly when Tucker gave him a look. Wash smiled fondly as the pair of them went next door, and took the time alone to get his head on straight.

Facts: Wash had a (steadily growing, the longer he was subjected to his interactions with Junior) crush on Tucker. He and Tucker would be spending the weekend in the same bed. Wash was pale and, therefore, it was easy to tell when he blushed even the slightest bit.

Fuck.

Tucker returned a minute later, yawning and stretching his arms over his head. “Dibs on the shower,” he grinned, laughing when Wash instantly tried to make a break for the bathroom. “Oh, fuck no!” He dove for it as well, the pair of them getting stuck in the doorway with their shoulders jammed up against each other. Tucker ended up winning by reaching and tickling Wash’s ribs. Bastard.

Finally, after nearly an hour because Tucker insisted on taking approximately eleven years in the shower, they were clean and ready for sleep. Wash stalled as much as he could, even going into the bathroom to pretend to pee so he could pace away his nerves. It was just Tucker, he told himself. Just Tucker. Just sleeping. Just a queen sized bed _why couldn’t it be king sized why?!_

He squared his shoulders and marched back out, chin lifted high. He faltered when he was met with Tucker, in pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose now that his contacts were out.He was sliding a thick headband over his forehead, and he looked kind of…adorable. Wash shook his head to clear it and continued his march, sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

Tucker grinned at him, winking playfully. “If you wanna spoon, let me know now so I can be ready.”

“Fuck off,” Wash snorted, hoping his ears weren’t too red. He stretched out fully as Tucker reached to turn out the lamp on the side table. He kept his arms and legs glued to his sides, terrified of touching Tucker for even a second, for some reason. They touched often enough otherwise, but something about being in the same bed made it…different. Charged with something. Although, if Tucker’s attitude was anything to go by, Wash was probably just making it weird when it didn’t need to be.

He laid there stiffly, staring up at the ceiling and despairing as he could seem to fall asleep that way. Tucker’s soft snores sounding after only a few minutes, the asshole, and Wash listened to them in an effort to distract himself from his discomfort. He turned his head slowly, the light from the moon outside bright enough that he could see a sliver of Tucker’s sleeping face, slack and gentle. His eyelashes lay thick on top of his cheek, and his lips were slightly parted as he snored. Wash felt a crackle in his chest, like the beginnings of a forest fire, and sighed heavily through his nose.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr! comefeedtherainn.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minor content warning: ADHD negativity

Tucker woke the next morning feeling warm. Almost swelteringly so. He cracked an eye open, squinting as they still stung a little from sleep, and was met with the sight of Wash’s face inches from his own. He froze, his other eye flying open as he took in the rest of the sensations; Wash’s breath gentle on his neck, their feet tangled underneath the blankets. Wash had even slung an arm over him in the night, apparently, keeping Tucker close to his chest like a teddy bear.

Tucker swallowed, his throat dry and his heart pounding against his chest.He carefully slipped out from underneath Wash’s arm, trying not to rouse him. Wash was a light sleeper, though, and he sniffed awake as Tucker couldn’t help the mattress groaning underneath him. They both stilled, looking at each other, before Wash quickly withdrew his arm and turned into a human tomato.

“Uh, sorry,” he muttered, scooting away so quickly he nearly fell right off the bed.

“S’cool, dude,” Tucker croaked, getting to his feet and grinning widely to cover up how loud his heart was thudding now. He was pretty sure Wash could fucking hear it. “No prob. Bob. Or. Dave. Uh. I’m gonna shower.”

“Okay,” Wash agreed, avoiding his eyes. “Cool. You do that.”

“Yep.”

Tucker turned on his heel and power walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and locking it before putting his face in his hands. Jesus fucking God, that was mortifying. He normally wasn’t weird about touching or even snuggling with any of his friends; he’d certainly spent plenty of game nights in Church’s lap with the declaration that he liked to be tall. But something about being cozied up with Wash underneath a thick duvet, their slightly chilled feet slotted together and Wash’s knee gently tucked against his own, his thick arm draped over Tucker’s waist…

Fuck. Shower. Shower. Shower.

Tucker hurried over and turned the spray on the coolest setting he was decently sure he could manage before stripping. He gave himself a stern look in the mirror as he wrapped his hair up in a cap; Don’t even think about it, asshole.

He stepped underneath the water and instantly gasped; fuck, he hated being cold. But it was helping, his face no longer burning and his heart rate slowing. With a sigh of relief he washed up, muttering scoldings to himself the entire time. Once he’d dried off and dressed again, he’d told himself off badly enough that his head was in a good place again. He and Wash were just friends. Faking dating was just getting to him. Just friends. Juuuust friends.

He nearly choked on air as he was met with Wash, shirtless and facing away from him, stretching his arms over his head as he observed the view out the window. Tucker’s jaw hung loosely as his eyes traced every muscular dip in his back like a map, and he closed it with a clack when Wash turned to face him.

“Hey,” he greeted, his hair still sticking up on one side from being pressed against the pillow all night. FUCK. “You done in there?”

“Yep!” Oh man, that was a squeak, that was a _noticeable_ squeak. “All yours, buddy.” …Buddy?!

Wash raised an eyebrow at him. “Thanks, friend,” he said, a bit teasingly. He nudged Tucker on his way past, smiling a bit, before ducking into the bathroom and shutting the door. Tucker shook his head slowly, staring into space. _What the fuck?_ he mouthed to himself, before huffing and going to get clean clothes. Once that was done, he didn’t wait for Wash to finish showering before going to get Junior out of bed.

When had it gotten weird? Even last night Tucker had only minimal qualms about sharing a bed with Wash, and that was admittedly because he was so smoking hot. But something about waking up next to him, and having him so close was…nice. It felt nice, Tucker realized. Like, in his stomach and shit. What the fuck was that about?

He pushed open the door to the room Junior was staying in, shuffling over to the bed and nudging his shoulder. “Dude. Wake up.” When he didn’t respond except to grumble, he nudged him a little, which only succeeded in rolling him onto his stomach. “Junior, for fuck’s sake,” he sighed, looking around. He spotted a dirty sock and smirked, grabbing it and placing it delicately on Junior’s face. It took about two seconds for the kid to sit up groaning, throwing it across the room.

“Dad, gross!”

“Good morning,” Tucker grinned, snickering when Junior whacked him with his pillow. “Ow. Come on, get up.”

“I don’t wanna,” Junior grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“If you get up and brush your teeth in the next sixty seconds, we can make chocolate chip pancakes.”

Junior was out the door almost faster than he could blink, sprinting to the bathroom. Tucker snickered, pleased with himself, and went to finish getting himself ready as well. Once he was finished he opened up the window, leaning on the sill and looking out onto the quiet river. He could hear voices drifting down the hall and through the other open windows; others were waking up, too. He took a deep breath of the clean air, trying to squash his anxiety. He still ended up jiggling his leg slightly in agitation.

As he’d said, his family really did mean well. And even if they were a little douchey, they mostly were cool people, too. It was Rich that was the real problem; even Tiya wasn’t as bad as he was. Rich and Tucker had been close as kids, but then Tucker started fucking up in school and getting in trouble, and Rich’s parents started talking shit about Tucker’s parents and Tucker himself, like he was a bad egg. The only one who didn’t go to college, the only one with a child because he was a playboy. Drug addict, even though he never did shit other than smoking weed a few times. The one with the bad attitude. The list went on, and Tucker had been dealing with it since he was fucking eight years old and he was goddamn sick of it by now.

Rich’s dad was Lavern’s brother, and the two of them didn’t talk anymore after all the shit that went down. He and Rich’s mom lived somewhere in New Mexico, Tucker had no idea where. Rich still lived nearby, and attended gatherings while making nice with Lavern. He still shit on Tucker in subtle ways, though, making little jabs and reminding him how much less he was than him. Than the rest of the family. It was the reason he chose his last name as his nickname; he wanted to claim his spot in their family, screaming at the top of his lungs that he fucking belonged there as he dug his heels into the dirt.

“Tucker?”

Tucker looked over his shoulder, and realized a second too late that his eyes were wet. He wiped them quickly, clearing his throat. “Sup. You ready for breakfast?”

“Are you alright?” Wash asked, frowning. He took a few steps toward him, and Tucker panicked at the concern in his eyes - fuck no, fuck no.

“M’good,” he said quickly. “Need coffee though, I’m dying. Let’s go.”

Wash stared at him for another moment, before nodding slowly. “Alright. Lead the way.”

Tucker shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and left the room, a pit in his stomach. He smoothed his expression when he saw Junior though, knowing the kid would catch on if he wasn’t careful. “Sup, dude. Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go!” Junior grinned, clearly eager for pancakes.

Tucker snickered and followed him down the stairs, scolding him for skipping steps and not holding onto the railing. “You wanna break your neck, dude?”

“Daaaad,” Junior groaned, rolling his eyes. “Come onnnn.”

“Fine, do what you want. Don’t come crying to me when you break yourself.”

Junior descended the rest of the steps properly despite his pouting, and then skipped into the kitchen. No one was inside, apparently having decided to have coffee outside at one of the picnic tables. That was just fine with Tucker; he would much rather make pancakes with Junior and Wash anyway. He bent to get the pancake mix because fuck making shit from scratch, setting it on the counter before looking up at the cupboard where the cooking bowls were. “Hey, tall person,” Tucker grinned, glancing at Wash. “Help.”

Wash snickered, coming up behind Tucker just like he had yesterday and reaching over his head. His firm chest and stomach pressed against Tucker’s back, and he felt his face flushing again. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he smelled good, too. Wait, was that Old Spice? Of course David Washington would wear _Old Spice_ , Jesus Christ, Tucker, what is your taste in _men_ -?!

“Tucker. Are you gonna take this or are you just gonna stare at me?”

Tucker blinked and jolted back to life, snatching the bowl out of Wash’s hands so fast he almost dropped it. “Thanks! Sorry. Zoned out. Need coffee.”

“I’ll start it,” Wash laughed quietly in amusement, heading over to the coffee maker and starting to fill it with water. Tucker watched him for another moment, jumping a bit when Junior nudged him and nodded to the mix.

“Oh, right.”

Soon, they had a thick batter going, and Junior was grinning ear to ear as he sat on the counter and absolutely obliterated the mix with chocolate chips. It looked pretty epic, to Tucker, and he nodded in approval as Junior tossed aside the empty bag. He mixed them up a bit before turning to the stove, carefully pouring out two lopsided circles of batter. He sipped his coffee in between flipping, humming a song he’d had stuck in his head since the drive up.

“What is that?”

Tucker glanced at Wash, raising an eyebrow as he watched him laying strips of bacon into a pan. “What’s what?”

“That your humming. I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Oh. Elton John, I think?”

“Oh, Tiny Dancer!”

“Yeah, that one!” Tucker laughed, grinning at the skillet as he flipped a pancake carefully. “It played on the way up and it’s just in my head.” He resumed humming, bobbing his head along playfully. 

“ _Hold me closer, tiny dancer_ ,” Wash sang along, badly and with a huge grin.

Tucker let out a loud laugh and nodded enthusiastically. “ _Count the headlights on the highway_!”

Junior watched them both like they were insane as they broke into full out belting, snickering between words and arms brushing as they shared the stove. “You guys are weird,” Junior muttered. Neither of them heard him, too busy cackling as Wash’s voice broke on a high note.

Lavern poked her head in from the sliding door, smiling widely when she saw the three of them. “Ah, should’ve known it was you,” she teased, coming in with her empty coffee mug. “Good morning.”

“Morning, mama,” Tucker greeted, pecking her cheek as she passed. “Breakfast is about ready.”

“How sweet! Thank you, boys,” she said warmly. “You didn’t have to do that, I was just about to come in and get started.”

“Nah, we got it,” Tucker grinned. “Junior wanted chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Mhm!” Junior nodded, his mouth already full of bacon that Wash had finished cooking.

Lavern snickered and patted his curls affectionately. “Let me at least help get out some plates and stuff.”

“Mama, get some more coffee and go sit down,” Tucker said in a playfully stern voice. “We’ve got it.”

Lavern sighed, putting a hand on her hip and giving him an exasperated smile, then shook her head and refilled her cup. “Fine. Thank you, sweetpea.”

“No problem.”

Tucker turned back to what he was doing when she went back outside, smiling to himself. He felt eyes on him and looked up, blinking in surprise when he found Wash staring intently at him. “…sup.”

Wash blinked and straightened. “Sorry. Just…you’re really good to your mom. It’s nice.”

Tucker scoffed to play off how much his face heated at that. “That woman raised me, least I could do is make fucking breakfast.”

“I know,” Wash laughed quietly, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, I’m just saying. It’s admirable.”

“Hm.” Tucker frowned a little, his heart warming at the words. “Thanks, Wash. I guess I feel like I owe her a lot. She’s been through a lot of shit for me.”

Wash squeezed his shoulder, silently acknowledging and comforting, and Tucker’s stomach did a fucking back flip. He watched Wash as he turned away and started retrieving plates and cups. _Did he have a crush on Wash?!_

He swore to himself as he finished the last of the food and put everything on big platters, the pancakes a precarious mountain. The three of them carried everything outside, setting the tables and getting food served up. Everyone thanked them generously, smiling the brightest at Wash, like they were thrilled that Tucker had brought such a nice man to meet them. And he was that, a good man. A great man. Tucker’s gut twisted guiltily.

Breakfast was mostly quiet, everyone slowly waking up as the coffee got to them and they were fueled by food. Wash made a point of gathering all of the dishes, saying that he would take care of them. “I’ll help you,” Richard piped up, sidling up to his shoulder and grinning his creepy ass grin.

Sirens immediately went off in Tucker’s head and he leapt to Wash’s rescue. “I’ve got it, Rich,” he said firmly, taking some plates from Wash and nudging him toward the house. “But, thanks.” He muttered at Wash to walk and they both hurried into the house, and Tucker could feel Rich’s eyes on him the entire way.

“Thanks,” Wash laughed as they set all of their shit on the counter. “That could’ve been weird.”

“Very weird,” Tucker scoffed. “I don’t wanna give him any chance to give you shit.”

“Thanks,” Wash said again, more gently, and nudged him with his hip. Tucker couldn’t help the goofy smile if he wanted to.

They got most of the dishes in the washer, though there were still some that didn’t fit and they had to wash them by hand. By the end of that they were splattered with water and suds from a brief splash fight, and Tucker was snickering as Wash mopped up the floor with a tea towel.

“Vern,” Lavern called into the kitchen. “If you wanted to take Junior out on the tubes, they’re in the garage. I put air in ‘em before you got here.”

“Yeah, totally. Thanks, mama,” he grinned, drying off his hands.

“Tubes?” Wash asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah, like pool tubes! You’ve never been tubing or anything?” Tucker gasped as Wash shrugged and shook his head. “Dude! Oh, man. We gotta go sometime. I don’t take Junior like, actually tubing ‘cause that’s on the back of a speedboat and he’s still kinda tiny - don’t tell him I said that - but we take them out on the river. The current just kinda takes you so you can just chill, it’s fun.”

“Okay, cool,” Wash nodded, smiling. “Do you want me to get Junior from outside?”

“Uh, sure,” Tucker agreed, trying not to swoon over something so stupid. Jesus, what was his problem? “Thanks, dude.”

Wash went to grab Junior, so Tucker had a moment to himself to panic and then settle back down before they came back. Just one more day. One more day of weird intimacy and then he and Wash could go back to fucking normal. He looked up and smiled brightly enough to conceal his nerves when he saw Junior. “Hey, dude. Let’s go get our trunks on!”

Junior whooped loudly and sprinted toward the stairs, gone before Tucker could fret about him falling and breaking his face on the way up. Wash snickered fondly and began to ascend as well, beckoning Tucker. Tucker smiled goofily and followed him up the stairs, though he got one glance at Wash’s ass and had to avert his gaze straight down to his own feet. No way was he touching that train of thought with a ten foot pole, not when they had to share a goddamn bed for another night. Besides, Wash wasn’t into him like that. Just because Tucker had a stupid proximity crush or whatever the fuck, didn’t mean he should make Wash feel weird.

They all got changed and Junior was practically vibrating by the time they were walking out to the detached garage to get their tubes. Tucker had put his hair up in a bun on the top of his head, trying to avoid fucking it up any more than he could help. He had a feeling that just for that, he was probably gonna fall off his tube at some point. The universe hated him like that.

Junior came out of the garage before Tucker and Wash had even gotten there yet, nearly tripping as he tried to haul two tubes along with him. Tucker snickered and took one, looping his arm through and resting it on his shoulder. They retrieved the third for Wash; it was cobalt blue with yellow speckles. Junior urged them both to hurry up, even going so far as to push Tucker along to make him walk faster.

“J, slow your fucking roll,” Tucker snickered, purposefully walking more slowly. “What’s wrong? Am I going too slow?”

“DAD!” Junior squawked, very Tucker-like, and pushed even harder. Wash bowed his head as he snickered, grinning wider when Tucker glowered at him over his shoulder. Tucker couldn’t help grinning right back.

They made it to the river and waded in, the water a bit more tolerable now that the sun was out for the day. They flopped into their tubes, Tucker and Junior cackling as Wash nearly flipped himself right away. “Wash, come on,” Tucker snickered. “We haven’t even gone anywhere yet, man.”

“Shut up,” Wash smirked, now safely nestled inside and looking more relaxed than Tucker could ever remember seeing him. He buried the fond, beaming smile that threatened to split his face and pushed away from the bank.

The current carried them off at a lazy pace, and Tucker slid his sunglasses off of his head and perched them on his nose. He watched Junior stretch to reach a large stick jutting out of the water, then use it to tap everything he came near. He seemed mesmerized as he watched the end of it glide through the water, and Tucker found himself smiling fondly. He was roused from his thoughts by something cool poking his leg, and looked down to find that it was Wash’s foot. He smirked, poking him right back. “Don’t make me flip you. I’ll do it.”

Wash snickered, putting up his hands. “You just looked a little lost in thought. What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing. Just watching Junior.”

“Mm.” Wash was silent for a moment, watching Junior floating a ways ahead of them but still within sight. “So…tell me to fuck off if you want, but…this morning. Were you…crying?”

Tucker grimaced, glad for his sunglasses making him feel like he could hide somewhere. “Nah. I mean. A little. Not like, crying, crying. I was just…I dunno.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, I’m just worried.”

Goddamn him. Damn him. “Thanks,” Tucker murmured. “It’s not a big deal. Just…family gatherings make me tense.”

“I’ve noticed,” Wash said gently, not looking at Tucker but instead at the stretch of river before them, branches and felled trees jutting into their path from the banks. It looked like they were floating along through a soft green tunnel, bits of sunlight filtering through the foliage and making the calm water glitter.

“It’s Rich, mostly,” Tucker sighed. “He makes me feel…like I shouldn’t be here. Like everyone would prefer if I wasn’t here.”

“Why?”

“I mean, I’ve always kinda been the black sheep,” Tucker scoffed, as if just saying it aloud didn’t put a brick in his throat. “I had issues in school, didn’t like it, wasn’t good at it. So I stopped going every day, would go hang out with my friends or whatever instead. It was just hard, and my teachers would just put me in the back of the room instead of fucking…I dunno.”

Anyway,” he huffed, scowling straight ahead. “I got into a bit of trouble. Normal kid trouble, nothing like, life-changing. And I was doing bad in school. And you’ve seen everyone else, they all went fucking ivy league and shit. Whereas I barely graduated high school. I was on my way to failing out anyway, but then…me and Carmen had Junior.” He said it even quieter, not that he hadn’t been talking lowly before. But he never wanted Junior to hear about what that time had been like for him. “And I…I mean, I wanted to be there for her. For him. But I was just a fucking kid. I don’t know how I managed to get through high school, Wash. I have no fucking clue.”

Wash didn’t say anything, just listened patiently without staring at him, and Tucker wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to tell him how much it meant. “So anyway. There’s that. And for all those reasons, Rich’s parents didn’t like me, and by extension gave my parents shit. So my mom stopped talking to them, my dad followed along of course. Rich still hangs around, though, I don’t even know why. I guess because everyone else is here; his folks moved to Fuck-Knows New Mexico,” Tucker scoffed, rolling his eyes. “But yeah, so he plays nice with my mom, and she seems happy enough to have him around, so I mean, that’s cool. But he still just says this…shit. And now with Junior having ADHD and shit-” Fuck, oh man, Tucker had a lump in his throat, shit, shit. He cleared it forcefully, scowling harder until it went away. “Yeah. Let’s just say there’s some scrutiny going on.”

Wash looked at him finally, watching him for a long moment before speaking. “I’m sorry that you have to deal with that,” he said sincerely, if a bit awkward. “That’s incredibly unfair.”

“Thanks,” Tucker sighed, never sure how to answer that kind of thing. “It’s just…it’s really fucking shitty feeling like I gave him that. It’s my fault he’s having trouble, y’know?”

Wash sighed heavily through his nose, watching him for another few seconds. “I know it feels like that. But you didn’t infect him with something. It’s just something you’ve both got. And you’re doing the best you can to help him with school. He’s getting help you didn’t have.”

“Yeah.” Shit, now his eyes were stinging. “Uh. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay.” Wash sat back and was quiet for a while, letting his fingers glide through the water as he let Tucker have a moment to get a grip. God, Tucker kind of wanted to kiss him for it. “So. Apparently we’re missing a staff party this weekend.”

“Seriously?” Tucker asked, laughing quietly and thankful for the subject change. “Since when?”

“Apparently Donut decided to throw it impromptu,” Wash snorted. “How much do you want to bet Grif and Simmons will hook up?”

“Oh man, all my savings,” Tucker snickered, grinning ear to ear. “Those fuckers are so gonna bang. If they haven’t already. I swear they have.”

“I dunno. They both insist they haven’t,” Wash shrugged. “People say the same thing about us, you know.” His ears were a little pink, which just made Tucker’s face burn even more than it already was.

“Do they?” he laughed nervously, using his foot to push gently off of a log and continue on the path the water was taking them. “I hadn’t heard that.”

“Yeah. Which is just silly. Right?”

“Right,” Tucker scoffed so forcefully he nearly coughed on it. “So silly. The silliest.”

“Right.” Wash went quiet then, and Tucker almost peeled his skin off at how heavy the silence was.

The green tunnel parted for open sky, and they drifted onto a lake with a small, unowned beach. Junior began paddling for it, so Tucker and Wash followed at a lazier pace. They stood once the water was shallow enough, wading onto the sand and using their tubes as chairs as they sat up away from the water. Junior dropped to his knees where the sand was still wet, instantly beginning to dig in with his hands cupped like shovels. Tucker smiled a bit sadly as he watched; he wished Junior had some cousins to play with. It had to get lame chilling with his dad all the time.

“You gonna make a castle, dude?” Tucker asked, grinning when Junior nodded. “Nice.”

“It’s gonna have a moat and everything,” Junior declared. Great, now Tucker was wishing he’d brought sand toys. Where the fuck was his head? Wash caught the corner of his eye, lounging in the sun like a cat with his eyes closed.

Oh, right. That’s where.

He shook his head at himself and sat back, prepared to soak up some sun himself. He smirked as he realized Wash’s shoulders and the tip of his nose were already getting pink. “You literally fry like a lobster.”

“Shut up,” Wash smirked. “I don’t tan, either. I just turn red, peel, and then somehow have three times as many freckles.”

“Cute,” Tucker grinned, faltering when Wash’s face with a little red and his realized what he’d said. “I mean. Uh.” He let the sentence die in mid-air, a little bit mortified but hoping Wash was willing to just let it go.

Apparently he was, because he changed the subject. “You did put on sunscreen, right?”

“Yes, dad, oh my god,” Tucker snorted. “Did you? Because you’re already cooked medium well.”

“ Yes,” Wash snickered, grinning at the ribbing. God, he had a good sense of humor. When he was in a good mood, anyway. “I did. I can’t help being a lobster.”

“Guess not,” Tucker laughed, nudging him playfully.

They stayed there soaking up sun and letting Junior build his castle and moat. By the time he’d finished that, he was complaining about being hungry and asking Tucker if they could go back. Tucker nodded and got to his feet, brushing sand off his ass. “Yeah, let’s go. Come on, you big cat,” he teased Wash, poking him with his toe. Wash grunted and got up as well, looking a little cooked but content.

“Dad, look at my castle,” Junior insisted, grinning.

“Dude, sick moat,” Tucker praised, grinning right back. “Sorry, next time I’ll make sure we have shovels and shit.”

“It’s fine, I just used my hands.”

They got back into their tubes and floated off again, steering themselves toward the continuation of the path that would take them in another half circle and right back to Lavern’s property. Junior appeared to be trying to speed up the process, paddling with his hands and feet alternately. Kid must be hungry.

Tucker was doing his best with him. Wash’s words had meant a lot, even if he wasn’t sure how to take them, but they were things Tucker really needed to hear. He heard it from his mom often enough, but it almost felt like she had to say those things. He knew Wash would never hesitate to tell him if he was doing something wrong. Wash was always honest with him, telling him he was fucking up with a hand outstretched to pull him to his feet. Tucker appreciated it more than he would ever be able to tell him.

The idea of having someone like that alongside him as he raised his son, brought him up into adolescence and tried to stop him from becoming him, made Tucker’s gut warm pleasantly. Like a forest fire crackling inside of him. Why did he want it to be Wash?

When did his fire become Wash?


	5. Chapter 5

Wash could admit to himself that he could be a little dense when it came to…interpersonal situations. Namely other people having feelings right in front of him and him being expected to respond in some way. It was horrifying, generally, and he tended to duck out of situations like that whenever humanly possible.

Tucker, however, was different for him.

Which was odd, because Tucker had more feelings on a daily basis than Wash could ever remember watching a person experience in his life. And yet, he didn’t shy away. Tucker’s intensity, the fierceness with which he loved and hated and raged against the world, drew Wash into his orbit like a moon. Tucker felt enough for the both of them, made Wash feel like he was alive with electricity dancing along his skin. Wash hoped that he was enough to temper Tucker in turn, keep him afloat before he could drown himself in self-doubt and all of the harsh comparisons he made between himself and everyone else. They could be good together. They could be great together.

Wash had realized this while floating along the hazy green tunnel, listening to Tucker speak through a constricted throat about his son, about his position in his family, a determined fire in his shining eyes. Wash wanted to be there for him. He had passed the silly crush phase a while ago, he decided, but hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself. But then…Tucker had been acting strange. And Wash could admit that he was dense sometimes, yes, but this time…this time, he was almost positive.

They could be great together, and Tucker felt it, too.

Wash contemplated this as he watched Tucker and Junior playing fetch with Freckles, and then somehow turning it into a game of tag. The golden retriever looked absolutely delighted, his tongue hanging happily out of the side of his mouth as he sprinted away from Junior. Tucker’s head was thrown back in a bright laugh, his face split into a grin. Wash smiled softly, watching them with his arms folded across his chest. He was off on his own, leaning with his back against a tree. The rest of the family were gathered near the tables again, having mid-afternoon beers and enjoying the pleasant weather.

“Cute, isn’t he?”

Wash blinked and straightened slightly, smothering the grimace as Rich came to stand beside him. “Who?”

“Junior,” Rich clarified, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, right. Yeah. He is.”

“Shame about all of his problems,” Rich sighed, shaking his head as he watched Junior flop onto his back in the grass and screech as Freckles attacked him with kisses.

“Sounds like Tucker’s got it under control,” Wash said smoothly, not granting him much of his attention. He was still defensive after what he had said to Tucker the previous evening, and what Tucker had told him out on the river.

“So he says,” Rich hummed, frowning slightly in a way that made Wash bristle further. “Then again, he wasn’t exactly a model student, himself.”

“Wouldn’t that make him the perfect person to help Junior, then?” Wash asked, a little more sharply than he’d intended. “He’ll know what will probably be difficult, and what might help.”

“David,” Rich sighed.

“Wash,” he interrupted, cutting Rich off before he could continue speaking.

The corners of Rich’s eyes tightened a bit, but he smiled, so Wash figured they were still playing the fake-polite game. “Of course. Wash. Listen, I can tell you care very much about my cousin, and that’s an admirable thing. Dating a man with a child is a big commitment. But you seem like a smart guy, and Tucker…Tucker just isn’t.”

Wash stared at him, frozen with the rage that had begun to boil in his chest. “Are you serious?” he asked lowly.

“I don’t mean it to sound as harsh as it does, but it’s just the truth,” Richard insisted with a grimace, as if it pained him to say the words. “He’s been able to get to where he is on charm, thankfully, but waiting tables is as far as he’s going to get. He’s always been a bit of a lost-”

Wash interrupted him with a hard shove, two hands planted firmly on Rich’s chest and sending him stumbling back a few steps. “Keep talking,” he snarled, his hands suddenly shaking and his breath quickening with anger. “Keep talking, I dare you.”

“What the hell?” Rich shouted, pushing him right back and nearly drawing Wash into a fist fight as they tried to bat each other’s arms away. “Don’t touch me!”

Wash snarled and leapt at him, landing a solid hit on his jaw before Rich got him in a firm grip. Members of Tucker’s family began muttering and gasping, then calling out for them to stop once they realized the pair were well and truly brawling on the lawn.

“Wash!”

Wash vaguely heard Tucker’s voice over the rushing in his ears, coming closer and sounding distressed. He ignored it in favor of trying to land another hit in Rich’s smug face.

“Wash, what the hell are you doing?!” Tucker cried, running toward them. He grabbed Wash’s arm, yanking him backward. “Dude! Chill!”

“Asshole,” Wash spat, snarling at Rich and still half blind with rage. “I should kick your ass!”

“Wash-!”

“What is going on out here?”

“Mama,” Tucker breathed more quietly, looking up at her imploringly, like he didn’t know what to do. “I don’t know, I-”

“Tucker’s boyfriend attacked me!” Rich scoffed, straightening his shirt haughtily and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “I was just trying to have a conversation-”

“You were talking shit about Tucker, don’t lie to her!” Wash snarled, trying to lunge for him again.

“Wash, for fuck’s sake-”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Lavern’s voice carried across the water and through the trees on the opposite bank, echoing for several seconds as everyone went silent. “That is just about enough out of all of you! You two,” she snapped, sending a sharp glare toward Tucker and Wash. “Go inside and cool off before I cool you off myself. Go on!”

Tucker obeyed silently, steering Wash into the house. “Junior, come on,” he called over his shoulder. Junior scurried to his side instantly, his eyes wide and skittish.

Wash could hear Lavern’s sharp tones overpowering Rich’s indignant ones as they shut the sliding door and headed up the stairs. Guilt settled in his chest; had he seriously tried to fist fight Tucker’s cousin at a family reunion? Was he really that guy? His face burned with shame and he hung his head, listening vaguely as Tucker murmured for Junior to go to his room for a bit. The boy seemed frightened enough by everything to listen without complaint, slipping inside the bedroom and closing the door quietly behind him.

Wash allowed Tucker to steer him to the en suite in their room, his firm grip pushing him to sit on the toilet lid. He watched as Tucker bent down to retrieve antiseptic and bandages from underneath the sink, observed the firm set of his jaw as he wet a warm cloth. He moved around his jaw experimentally, and realized he could feel a bit of broken skin. Probably from one of Rich’s rings catching him. That couldn’t be pretty.

Tucker turned, towering over him for a moment, and Wash expected to get the dressing down of his fucking life. Instead, Tucker slowly sank to his knees, until he was eye level with him, and carefully began dabbing at the small scrapes on Wash’s jaw. “Seriously dude?” he murmured, smirking just a bit. “A brawl at my family reunion? What are we, on reality TV?”

“M’sorry,” Wash mumbled, avoiding his eyes. “He just…he was saying shit. And it made me mad, so…”

He trailed off into silence, and Tucker seemed content to just let it sit for a minute or two while he worked on disinfecting. It stung a little, both the cut itself and the inside of Wash’s nose. “My dad always taught me not to fight,” Tucker began after some quiet. “Told me that nine times outta ten, if you could talk your way out of a situation, you should."

That was one thing I never got in trouble for; I never fought other guys,” Tucker scoffed, shaking his head. “Much as I wanted to. Even Church got in more scraps than I did, in high school. Not that he won any of them, but he was enthusiastic.”

Wash snorted softly, smiling a bit. “Hard to imagine.”

“I know right? Anyway. Dad told me not to fight. So I didn’t. Didn’t mean I didn’t get my ass kicked a couple times, but I didn’t fight with my hands. Learned to fight with words instead, I guess. Tell a dude about himself in front of his friends, and you’d be surprised how often he’ll back down,” Tucker snorted in amusement. “Still…Church would fight for me. It was kinda crazy. Guess that’s why I had a mortifying crush on him - you repeat that, I’ll skin you,” he added, giving Wash a hard look.

“I won’t,” Wash promised, watching him closely.

“Anyway. I just…I guess I’m just saying that I appreciate it. Even if you didn’t really need to punch him, I just…thanks for standing up for me,” Tucker muttered, now avoiding Wash’s eyes himself. “Rich is a fucking cock, y’know? I stopped trying to do anything about him a while ago. Feels nice to have someone have my back.”

“Always,” Wash said immediately, seriously, fiercely. “I’ll always have your back.”

Tucker smiled, looking into his eyes briefly as he pressed a bandage to Wash’s jaw. “Thanks,” he repeated quietly. He smoothed it down gently, then paused there, his fingers on Wash’s skin. “There. Good as new,” he murmured, looking a little lost in thought.

Wash thought wildly about leaning forward to kiss him, then lost the opportunity as Tucker got to his feet. “Thank you,” he said, standing as well and hoping his face wasn’t pink. “Should I go…talk to Junior? He looked a little scared.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Tucker assured him, frowning a little. “I can explain it to him.”

“I know, I just…I thought maybe he should hear it from the guy who was actually fighting?” Wash suggested with a weak smile.

Tucker searched his eyes for a moment, then sighed heavily and nodded. “You’ve got a point. You can talk to him if you want, dude. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Wash paused, wanting to say or do something else, but couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t far too intimate for the current state of their relationship. He turned awkwardly and left instead, setting a course for Junior’s room next door. He knocked gently, waiting a few seconds for an answer. “Hey, Junior. It’s Wash,” he called quietly.

The door opened after a moment of shuffling, and Junior peeked around the door. “Oh, hey Wash,” he greeted. He looked happy enough to see him, but a little wary, like he wasn’t sure if he should be prepared for more yelling.

“Can I come in? That was pretty crazy down there, I was wondering if you wanted to talk about it,” Wash offered, smiling down at him in as friendly a manner as he could. He felt the bandage crinkle and pull at his skin a bit.

“Sure,” Junior shrugged. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and went back inside, flopping onto the bed as Wash stepped inside. He shut the door behind him, heading over to sit at the head of the bed while Junior stretched out on his back perpendicular to the mattress.

“So…”

“You punched Rich,” Junior said matter-of-factly, glancing at him.

“…Yep. I did. I shouldn’t have,” Wash clarified, looking sideways at him. “But I did.”

“How come?”

“He was saying mean stuff about your dad,” Wash explained. “And it made me mad, so I was stupid and I hit him.”

“Didn’t you do that when guys said mean stuff to your girlfriend?”

Wash blinked; he didn’t think Junior had been listening during the ride up, when he and Tucker were trading crazy stories. “Yeah.”

“Dad isn’t your boyfriend, though. It’s just pretend.”

Wash swallowed, suddenly feeling a little in over his head. How do you explain something so complex to an eight year old? “Yeah, I know. But I get mad for my friends, too. Plus your dad’s really important to me. Both of you are.”

“Do you always punch people who are mean to your friends?”

“Uh, no,” Wash said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t have punched Rich. Yeah? That was…a bad decision. And I just wanted to make sure you weren’t scared or anything.”

“Not scared,” Junior scoffed, looking up at his feet as he stuck his legs up in the air and made bicycle motions. “…I just don’t really like yelling. Or fighting.”

“Yeah. Me neither. I’m sorry,” Wash said sincerely. “I shouldn’t have done that. Even if Rich was being mean.”

“It’s okay,” Junior shrugged, looking at him curiously. “You should probably say sorry to Rich. You hit him, not me.”

Wash snorted, unable to help the wide smile. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“He is kind of a douche, though.”

Wash laughed louder at that, reaching to nudge Junior playfully until he rolled onto his side. “Yep. A giant douche.”

Junior snickered and pushed him back, grinning widely. “A super mega douche!”

“Okay, okay,” Wash snickered, getting to his feet. “You’re gonna get me in trouble if your grandma hears you talking like that.”

“She’s too busy yelling at Rich to get mad at me,” Junior smirked, rolling onto his stomach and pulling his iPad out from underneath his pillow.

Wash sure hoped so; bastard deserved it. “Probably. See you later, Junior.”

“Later, Wash,” Junior called after him, not looking up from his game as Wash exited the bedroom.

Wash went next door again, finding Tucker leaning on the window sill like he had that morning, staring out at the water glistening in the late afternoon sun. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard Wash’s feet straining the floorboards. “Hey. He cool?”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Wash nodded, smiling a bit. “Smart kid. Told me I should apologize to Rich.”

Tucker snorted, smiling fondly. “He’s probably right, in theory. In reality, fuck that guy.”

“Pretty much exactly what I was thinking,” Wash snickered. He came to stand beside Tucker, bracing his elbow on the opposite corner of the sill.

“I miss my dad,” Tucker murmured after several minutes of silence. Wash flicked his eyes toward him but didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t.

“What was he like?” Wash prompted softly. Tucker never spoke about the man, apart from passing mentions. Any time it got too in-depth he would shut down, redirecting with a joke or acting out.

“Me,” Tucker laughed weakly, his smile turning down a little at the edges. “Loud, obnoxious. Made dirty jokes all the time. Better dad than me, though.” Wash wanted to argue but held it back, not wanting to break Tucker’s concentration now that he was on a roll. “This was our up north house, before he died. We came up here every summer; it was my grandparents’, first.”

And my dad would take me in the freezing water, and he took me on the tubes, and we’d sit out there,” Tucker gestured toward the picnic tables visible below, and the tiny beach out by the water with a tire swing hanging from a thick tree beside it. His voice was getting hoarse but he didn’t stop. “We’d sit out there, and he’d tell me stories. Mostly stuff about the crazy shit he did when he was younger; the shit got crazier the older I got. I guess he figured I was old enough to handle it,” Tucker snickered weakly.

And when everything was going to hell…when I started failing, when C got pregnant and my mama would cry all the time wondering if I was gonna graduate…he’d tell me stories about being a dad. About when I was born. It was kinda trippy,” Tucker laughed, his eyes definitely welling up and over by now. He just wiped the tears away and pushed forward. “But it made me feel like…like I didn’t fucking ruin their lives, you know? I felt like that for such a long fucking time. I was nothing but trouble. My mama was in that school psychologist’s office every goddamn year, with my teacher, and they’d all talk about what to do with me, what to do about me. She got a lecture about juvie, about the school to prison pipeline, all that shit. No one ever mentioned meds or any shit like that, no one thought it was a problem like that. They just thought that…I was the problem. It was me.”

Tucker sighed shakily, rubbing his face with both hands and sniffling loudly. “And my dad just made me feel like I was the greatest thing that happened to them. Said being a dad was the best thing he ever did with his life. God, I wish Junior could’ve known him longer,” he groaned, shaking his head miserably. “Fuck, I wish that so fucking bad. He was so little when dad died, he doesn’t even remember him. And it’s just not fucking fair.”

I need to stop letting Rich make me feel like trash,” Tucker declared, looking up at Wash with shining, red-rimmed, fierce brown eyes. Wash’s own throat was a bit constricted, and he swallowed thickly. “I had a damn good example of how to be a dad. Rich’s opinion doesn’t fucking matter. I think my dad would be proud of me. I think he is.”

“He is,” Wash murmured, a little weak from being in the presence of Tucker’s emotion. “He is. He has to be. You’re…you’re incredible, Tucker.”

Tucker laughed weakly, shaking his head as he looked back out the window with a cathartic sigh. “I dunno about all that. But…thanks.”

“Sure.” Wash stared at him, unsure how to process everything he’d just heard, all of the raw feeling Tucker had just laid before him without hesitation. He reached out, wrapping an arm around Tucker’s shoulder. Tucker responded by turning into him and wrapping his arms tightly around Wash’s middle, shoving his face into his shoulder. Wash frowned and brought his other arm down, wrapping Tucker up tight and holding him close to his chest.

Tucker was so brave. He was so brave, and he was trying so hard, and Wash loved him.

Wash loved him so fucking much.


	6. Chapter 6

Tucker would be lying if he said he didn’t smile to himself as Rich and Tiya packed up their shit and left early. It wasn’t even dinner time and they were already in their car, heading down the bumpy drive and out of sight. Good fucking riddance; at least their last night of the visit would be somewhat peaceful. He and Wash had been hiding out in the house for most of the afternoon, both of them a little anxious to be seen by the family after the whole fist fight thing. Tucker couldn’t help the small smile as he remembered it.

Yeah, it had been really fucking stupid for Wash to punch Rich over something like that. Rich was always talking shit, had been for years, and the last time Tucker had hit him for it had been at least ten years ago. So for Wash, a grown-ass man, to do so was kind of ridiculous. But at the same time…

Tucker’s heart fluttered a bit in his chest as he remembered the indignant rage in Wash’s eyes. Wash fought for him. No one had ever fought for him other than his parents, metaphorically, and Church, literally. For Wash to do that for him, even if it was just punching his asshole cousin in the face, meant a lot. It meant so much.

Tucker sighed and shook his head, shoving that line of thought down. Wash was just his friend. One of his best friends, someone he could rely on without a second thought. And that was incredible. That was enough. It had to be enough.

Wash had gone with Junior at his request, the pair of them playing video games in the living room. Apparently Wash was ten times better at them than Tucker, according to Junior, so Tucker wasn’t recruited. That was fine by him; Wash was good for Junior, they got along well, and Tucker felt like he needed some time to clear his head. He’d snuck up to the bedroom to watch Rich leave.

“Lavernius?”

Tucker peered over his shoulder, finding his mother standing in the open doorway. “Oh, hey mama. Come on in, I was just thinking.”

“As if you ever stop,” Lavern teased affectionately, coming into the room fully and shutting the door behind her. Oh, man. Whatever she wanted to talk about, it required privacy. He felt like a teenager all over again.

“True. Uh, sorry about earlier,” Tucker grimaced, watching her take a seat on the bed. He felt awkward standing, so he did the same. “Wash isn’t used to Rich.”

“You don’t need to apologize. Even if Wash hadn’t done so a thousand times, you wouldn’t need to,” Lavern smirked. It faded quickly, though, and her brow furrowed as the corners of her mouth turned down. “Wash told me what he was saying about you, honey.”

Tucker’s face immediately went hot, and he looked away, shrugging. “He’s been saying the same shit to me for years. I don’t care.”

“I didn’t realize it was so bad,” Lavern murmured, watching him closely. “I thought you and Rich had just grown apart.”

“He just thinks I’m stupid,” Tucker scoffed. “Which he’s not really wrong about. But I’m fine with it. I don’t care if I’m stupid.”

“You are not stupid,” Lavern told him firmly, fixing him with a severe look. “I don’t wanna hear that out of your mouth again, you hear me?”

Tucker sighed, rolling his eyes even though he knew she hated it and unable to help his defenses raising. “Well shit, mama. What else am I supposed to say?”

“Lavernius.” Her voice was gentle again, and she laid a warm hand on his, then squeezed it. “Take a deep breath.”

Tucker scowled at the floor but still took a long breath through his nose like she asked. “He’s been saying that stuff about me for years, mama. It’s not new.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Lavern said softly. “I wasn’t paying attention close enough. I let him get away with that, and I shouldn’t have.”

“Jesus, mom,” Tucker groaned, his throat tightening. God, he was sick of crying by now. “You’ve been fighting battles for me since I was a little kid. I’m a fucking man, I shouldn’t need you to do keep doing that for me.”

“None of us gets on on our own, Vern,” she replied, her voice still gentle but unwavering. “You’ve been trying to do everything on your own your whole life. You gotta let somebody help you sometime, without feeling like you’re a burden.”

“But I am!” Tucker argued, scrubbing away the tears angrily. “I’m a fucking burden on everyone! On you and dad, on the family, on Junior, on Wash!”

“Alright, come here.” He froze as Lavern tugged him into her arms and squeezed him, instantly trying to wriggle away. After a moment he gave up and collapsed into her arms instead, throwing his own around her and squeezing tight. He cried as quietly as he could.

“Sorry,” he muttered thickly. “Sorry, I’m fine, I just-”

“You’re not. And that’s okay,” Lavern told him. “But honey, you’re no more of a mess than any one of us. We’re all human. Everyone’s got something they hate about themselves. You just hate a lot of things, sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Tucker scoffed, rolling his watery eyes. “No kidding.”

Lavern held him at arm’s length, looking into his eyes with a sharp gaze. “I did not raise a stupid boy. Your daddy didn’t raise a stupid boy. You hear me? We raised a damn fine man, and you’re gonna be alright. No matter what anybody says about you, you’ve got people who love you that know how good you are.”

Tucker stared at her, his eyes welling up until her face was blurry and his cheeks were wet. God, he was an asshole. He was lying to her, still couldn’t tell her the truth about Wash even when she told him how great he was right to his face. “Mama,” he hiccuped, but couldn’t get the rest of the words out. He shook his head and put his face in his hands instead. Lavern didn’t do anything but wrap her arms around him again and squeeze him tighter than before.

***

He felt like an absolute steaming pile of shit the rest of the evening. He was mostly quiet during dinner, his chin in his hand as he pushed his food around. He forced himself to eat a least some of it because Junior would think he didn’t have to, otherwise, but it made him feel sick. He just wanted to go home, get back to his routine, get away from the inadequacy and the guilt that this place layered on his shoulders like bricks.

He was avoiding Wash, too, and he knew Wash could tell. His face didn’t give much away, but Tucker could just feel it, and he was guilty for it, but Wash’s presence was making him want to be physically sick with guilt after his talk with his mother. He couldn’t fucking stand it, so he avoided the man at every opportunity. He snuck away with Junior when it became late, putting him to bed and then creeping back down to the sun room. The hope was that Wash would go up to bed without him and he could avoid having to talk to him until the next morning, when they would be packing up and then driving back home.

“Tucker?”

Shit.

“Wash,” he replied, his eyes still on the moonlight reflecting off of the still surface of the river. The rope swing swayed lazily in the light evening breeze, and Tucker inhaled the smell of trees and soil in an attempt at comforting himself. It didn’t do a whole lot of good.

“Are you okay? You’ve been kind of quiet all night.”

“I’m good,” Tucker replied automatically. He frowned when Wash didn’t come over immediately, glancing at him and raising an eyebrow. “You hovering for a reason, dude?”

“Sorry,” Wash laughed weakly, turning a little pink. “I…yeah, kind of. I wanted to talk to you.”

Tucker heaved a long sigh through his nose as he looked back out the window. Great. “What about?”

Wash didn’t reply, but he did come over to sit beside Tucker on the love seat. Tucker picked at a bit of wicker that had come loose from the back of it, bits of wood coming off underneath his nail. “Crazy day, huh?” Wash murmured, smiling a bit.

“Yeah,” Tucker scoffed, unable to help the slight smirk. “That’s one word for it.”

“I’m sorry I made a scene. That was embarrassing,” Wash grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “I haven’t snapped like that in years.”

“As weird as it sounds, I appreciate it, dude,” Tucker admitted, smiling a little wider. Talking to Wash made a few of the bricks on his back fall away. It always did.

“Well. As weird as it sounds, you’re welcome,” Wash grinned, though it faded into something softer after a moment. “…Tucker, I need to tell you something.”

Tucker blinked, glancing at him. “Sounds serious.”

“It is.”

“Okay. Well, what?”

Wash searched his eyes for a moment, his lips parted. “…Tucker, I’m in love with you.”

No.

No, no, no, no.

“…what?” Tucker croaked, staring at him frozen in place with round eyes. His heart started hammering against his chest so hard it was almost painful, and he could feel the blood drain from his face.

“I love you,” Wash repeated, though he was frowning a bit at Tucker’s reaction.

“No you don’t.”

“Wha-?”

“You don’t. It’s just this trip,” Tucker interrupted, sitting up straight. “This was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.” Tucker could not fucking deal with this right now. He needed Wash as he was; reliable, solid, at his back. If they dated, Tucker would fuck it up, he always fucked it up, and then Wash would be gone, gone, and Tucker needed him.

“I…I don’t understand,” Wash murmured, looking like Tucker had kicked him, and oh god, no, no, he was fucking it up again, he always fucked it up-

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression,” Tucker said a little breathlessly, still staring at him in horror. “But I don’t…I don’t, Wash. Please don’t.” _Please don’t do this, please don’t leave, please don’t hate me, please don’t love me._

Wash seemed just as frozen as he was, his eyes just as wide and the corners of his mouth pulled down. He finally broke eye contact, looking down at his hands and frowning slightly. “I…o-okay,” he mumbled, getting to his feet. _Shit, shit shit._ “Sorry,” he said awkwardly, opening his mouth as if to say something else, then shaking his head once and turning to leave instead.

Tucker watched him go, eyes tearing up for the hundredth time that day. He curled up in his seat, pressing his forehead to his knees and hugging his legs. He fucked it up, he fucked it up, he fucked it up. Just like always. So fucking stupid. Why couldn’t he just tell Wash that he felt it, too?

Because he didn’t deserve that, he answered himself. He was a burden on everyone, and that would include Wash. It already did include Wash. He’d forced him to lie, dragged him into a stupid, complex charade just to save Tucker from his own feelings of inadequacy. Wash didn’t need to deal with his issues, to have a kid forced into his life, to date a deadbeat waiter with a shitty apartment and no fucking brain.

He sat up and rubbed at his soaked cheeks with the cuffs of his sleeves, hiccuping and sniffling into the dark. He couldn’t go upstairs, not now. He couldn’t share a bed with Wash, wake up with his breath on his skin and his arm around his waist. He shook his head bitterly and pulled his hood over his eyes, settling into the corner of the love seat. Fuck it. He sniffled himself to sleep, glaring up at the moon until he passed out.

***

The morning was fucking hell.

To start, Tucker woke with the most killer crick in his neck he’d ever had, so bad he could hardly move his head around for the first twenty minutes or so of the day. He finally loosened up after messing with his phone for a while, avoiding the inevitability of going upstairs. Facing Wash. Driving home for three hours with Wash. Having to work with Wash. Losing Wash.

He swallowed the thick lump in his throat, refusing to cry one more fucking drop in that goddamn house, and got to his feet. He marched up the stairs, feeling less brave the closer he got to the bedroom. He pushed the door open anyway, then froze when he came face to face with Wash. “…gonna use the bathroom,” he muttered, quickly looking away.

Wash just nodded, avoiding his eyes, so he shuffled into the bathroom before it could get more horrible than it already was. He didn’t shower, but he did at least brush his teeth and put his glasses on; his eyes were irritated from wearing his contacts overnight. He shoved all of his toiletries back into the Ziploc he’d brought them in, then took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom once more.

Packing was a stiff, silent affair that luckily didn’t take more than five minutes. Tucker left the room to go help Junior, glad for the escape. Junior asked him what was wrong, noticing his weird mood, and Tucker just told him that he was tired. He’d be better after coffee. Junior nodded, but Tucker wasn’t sure he bought it.

Lavern came out to say goodbye to them as they threw their bags into the trunk of Tucker’s car, still quiet. She either didn’t notice or didn’t feel the need to comment, pulling Wash into her arms and squeezing him tight. “Thank you so much for coming. It was wonderful to meet you, sweetpea.”

“You too, Lavern,” Wash smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Bye, grandma!” Junior said cheerfully, giving her a big hug. “Thanks for the games!”

“Of course, just make sure you don’t play them before homework!” she lectured, grinning when he gave her an exasperated look. She turned to Tucker finally, hugging him close and kissing his cheek. “You have a safe drive, and call me when you get home.”

“I will, mama. Thanks for having us,” Tucker said quietly, forcing a small smile.

“No problem at all. You remember to call if you need me,” she said, looking firmly into his eyes. He just nodded, unable to think of anything worthwhile to say in return.

The three of them filed into the car, and Tucker took a moment to look over the property one more time. He both couldn’t wait to get away, and wanted to stay forever. That was the thing about missing the way that a place was at a certain point in time; everything changes. People, places, everything. Nothing is ever the same as how you remember it.

He tore his eyes away and proceeded down the drive, glancing at the river sparkling in his rear view before pulling onto the road once he saw the white, floral mailbox. Junior put his headphones on in the backseat, and Wash sat silently in the passenger, his forehead pressed to the glass as rain began to lightly sprinkle onto it. Tucker’s window was cracked, and the droplets flecked his arm. He grit his teeth and rolled it up, eyes still on the road ahead.


	7. Chapter 7

It rained the entire drive.

Not bad enough that Tucker couldn’t see where he was going, but enough that what would normally be a three hour drive took more like four. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if the drive wasn’t one of the worst things Tucker had ever had to sit through. He could feel Junior’s eyes on him every once in a while, clearly noticing the tension between he and Wash. Wash kept his eyes stubbornly out the window, not looking away once. Junior didn’t ask for a rest stop, this time, and Tucker wasn’t sure if it was because he really didn’t have to go or he just wanted to get out of the tense-as-fuck car as soon as possible. Tucker couldn’t say he disagreed if it was the latter.

It was mid-afternoon when they pulled up to the side-street near Tucker’s apartment, letting Wash out next to his car so he didn’t have to walk in the rain. Tucker swallowed thickly, watching in his rear-view as Wash exited the car and retrieved his bag from the trunk. Tucker’s fingers drummed the steering wheel, and he panicked when Wash started walking toward his car without a glance back. He rolled down the window and called his name without a thought, freezing when Wash actually stopped and looked at him. Tucker just looked right back for a long stretch of silence. Wash’s dirty blond hair was slowly being weighed down with rain water, rivulets rolling off of his jacket and down his nose. He had bags under his eyes that looked as heavy as Tucker’s felt.

“…bye,” Tucker called lamely, his voice a little strained.

Wash stared at him for a few tense moments, his expression blank. “Bye,” he said eventually, turning away without another word and slipping into the driver’s seat. The door shut loudly behind him, echoing between the buildings lining the street.

Tucker tore his eyes away, fixing them determinedly ahead as he pulled away. He refused to watch Wash disappear in his mirror. Instead, he pulled into the lot behind his apartment building and parked, feeling a little sick to his stomach, and he and Junior carried all of their shit up the stairs. They dripped water on the hallway carpet and in the entryway as Tucker let them inside.

“Here, take this off before you go in,” Tucker said quietly, holding out his hand for Junior’s jacket. “Church?” he called. “You home?”

Church emerged from his bedroom, looking like he’d actually showered, as Junior handed Tucker his jacket and then kicked off his shoes. “Hey,” Church greeted, raising an eyebrow as soon as he saw Tucker’s face. “Was it that bad?”

“It was fine,” Tucker said a bit woodenly. “Just a long drive.”

“…’kay,” Church said slowly, clearly not buying that. “Dude, you guys are both soaked, go change.”

Tucker nodded, rubbing his face tiredly. He glanced at the clock, thinking Junior was probably hungry. He patted Junior’s back to get him walking, following him down the hall and feeling like his legs were made of lead. “I’ll make something for lunch once I’m not all gross and cold.”

“Okay,” Junior nodded, looking at him oddly. He didn’t say anything, though, going into his room and rifling through his messy drawers for clean clothes.

Tucker did the same, unable to get the almost painful lump out of his throat. Wash’s face, the tone of his voice as he’d said goodbye, kept playing over and over again in his mind. He couldn’t believe how quickly he’d fucked that friendship up. Three years of friendship, three years of a bond he hadn’t felt since Church and Carmen. He’d fucked it in less than a minute.

He huffed as his eyes stung, angry with himself for being unable to stop with the goddamn tears, and rubbed at his eyes until they stopped. No more crying. He didn’t get to cry when he was the one who fucked up. When he was always fucking up.

***

Tucker stood at the kitchen counter two and a half weeks later, a letter stamped with the seal of Junior’s school in his hand. His report card had come, and he was doing…bad. So, so much worse than Tucker had been aware of. The teacher’s notes were like a harsh memory, mingling in his head with similar comments from his childhood, until all he could hear was a cacophony screaming at him that he was a failure. That he was failing. Junior was failing, because _Tucker was failing_. Fuck.

Junior had, apparently, been missing assignments and bombing tests. He had been meant to bring home failed tests to be signed, but hadn’t done so. Tucker certainly hadn’t seen them. Why didn’t Junior feel like he could be honest? Why did he feel like he had to hide from him?

He rubbed his face and folded the letter back up and stuck it in his pocket. He heard Junior exiting the bathroom and going into his room to change into his clothes for school; they would talk about the report card over breakfast. Or maybe he’d wait until after school, so the kid wouldn’t have to worry about it the whole day. Tucker sighed and went to use the bathroom now that it was free, flicking on the light and lifting the lid. He paused, blinking, as he saw a tan capsule floating in the water.

Junior tried to flush his pill.

A sudden, irrational, fear-fueled anger gripped him, constricting his chest until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He whirled on his heel and stalked back down the hallway, into the kitchen where Junior was pouring his cereal. “Junior,” he snapped, practically seething.

Junior jumped a little, his eyes going wide when he saw the anger on Tucker’s face. “What?”

Tucker clenched his jaw, trying to keep himself from shouting. His hands were shaking a bit so he crossed his arms to hide it. “Do you wanna guess what I found in the toilet?”

“…I dunno,” Junior said weakly, looking away like he already knew he was screwed.

“Don’t lie,” Tucker snapped. “Did you seriously try to flush your pill?!”

“I don’t need them,” Junior shot right back, glaring at him. “I hate them.”

“You don’t need them?!” Tucker asked incredulously, pulling the paper out of his pocket and brandishing it. “I got your report card in the mail!” Junior’s eyes went a little wider. “You’re failing almost every subject, Junior.”

“The teachers are mean!” Junior cried, his voice raising and his eyes beginning to well up. He angry-cried, just like Tucker.

“I don’t care if the teachers are mean!” Tucker shouted, reacting to Junior’s raised tone without thinking. “You need to take your pills, they’re supposed to help you!”

“They don’t help!” Junior argued, a couple tears falling. “I hate them, I don’t like them! I feel like a zombie when I take them!”

“It’s only for school days,” Tucker groaned, rubbing his face. “I don’t make you take them on weekends, they’re just to help with school.”

“I don’t care about school, school is stupid! I’m too stupid for it anyway!”

That clenched Tucker’s heart like a vice. “Lavernius Tucker, this is _unacceptable_!” He shouted, his voice echoing in the small kitchen. “I don’t care what we have to do, we are getting these grades back up! And you are taking those pills!”

Junior burst into tears immediately, pushing his chair away from the table. He stormed to his feet and left the room, still sobbing all the way down the hall. “I hate you!” he screamed, his voice breaking with the volume, before slamming his bedroom door shut.

Tucker growled desperately, tossing the report card onto the floor, and tangled his fingers into his hair. He pulled slightly, still panting with anger and fear and leaning against the counter.

“Dude, what the fuck’s going on out here?”

Tucker didn’t look up, croaking as he spoke. “Junior’s failing. Not taking his medicine.” He frowned, realizing he was short of breath and had to pant after every sentence. He swallowed, trying to calm down. “Shit, shit.”

“Tucker, for fuck’s sake, relax,” Church snapped, though it was his tense-concerned voice rather than actual irritation. He came to stand in front of him, placing his hands firmly on Tucker’s shoulders and squeezing. “Dude. Look at me, right fucking now.”

Tucker glanced up, his eyes wide. He still couldn’t catch his breath. “What do I do? I dunno what to do.”

“Well you’re gonna fucking breath, first,” Church scoffed, his thick brows pulled inward and down. Tucker could see his own terrified expression in the lenses of his glasses. “Slower than that, Jesus. You know, how your mom says. In through the nose for three, out through the mouth for five?”

Tucker nodded weakly, trying it. It didn’t work at first, his nose not providing nearly enough oxygen and sending his heart haywire all over again. After a few minutes he found it easier, though, closing his eyes as he took deep, even breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth, Church’s palms solid and warm on his shoulder.

“There. You gonna live?”

“Yeah,” Tucker muttered, straightening and wiping the cool sweat from his forehead. “Sorry. Can’t believe I had a fucking panic attack over a report card.”

“I don’t think it was quite that simple, but yeah. Kinda dramatic,” Church said a bit teasingly, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Sit down, man. Tell me what happened.”

Tucker sank into a chair, his legs a little shaky, and swallowed around his dry throat. “Found one of Junior’s pills in the toilet, he tried to flush it. And his report card came this morning; he’s failing almost every subject except English and Gym.”

“Damn,” Church grimaced, shaking his head. “Wonder how long he’s been skipping the pills.”

“I have no fucking clue,” Tucker scoffed, rubbing his face. “I don’t know what else to do, Church. He says he hates them. And I already know that they make him not hungry and shit. What the fuck do I do?”

“Talk to the doctor, dude,” Church frowned, pouring them both giant mugs of coffee. “Maybe they can put him on a lower dose, or a different kind of med. Maybe you should talk to the kid again about doing that 504 shit the school mentioned.”

“Maybe,” Tucker nodded weakly, taking the coffee gratefully and just smelling it for the moment. “He thought I was talking about special ed when I told him about it at first. I thought his head was gonna pop off.”

“He’s a smart kid. He’ll get it if you just lay it out plain for him,” Church assured him. He reached and punched Tucker’s shoulder lightly. “You’ve got this, man. It’s just a bump, no need to get your panties in a bunch.”

Tucker smiled a bit, punching him back just as gently. “You’re right. Even if you’re an asshole.”

“That’s me. Always an asshole, and always right.”

Tucker snorted and sipped his coffee, glancing at the clock. “Great. And now he needs to go to school all fucked up about this.”

“Maybe you could call him in sick?” Church suggested. “I know that’s technically like, rewarding him for throwing a tantrum, but…”

“I don’t care. That’s a good idea, parenting books can lick my left nut,” Tucker scoffed, reaching for his phone. “I can’t make him go today. We gotta talk.”

Church nodded, sipping his own coffee. “I’ve got an interview today,” he announced after a few minutes of comfortable quiet. “I’ll probably be back around dinner.”

“Okay, awesome,” Tucker said genuinely, grinning at him. “Look at you, gettin’ out of the house like a big boy.”

“Fuck off,” Church snorted, grinning just as wide and kicking his shin. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. So what’s the job?”

“Entry level at a programming place. Opportunity for advancement, though. Plus benefits.”

“Nice, dude,” Tucker crowed, reaching to clap his shoulder. “Fuck it up!”

Church snorted, though he looked pleased. “Fingers crossed I don’t bomb the interview.”

“Nah, you ‘ll be great,” Tucker scoffed, waving him off. He made the call to Junior’s school, which thankfully lasted about two minutes, and then got to his feet. “I’m gonna just tell Junior I called in for him. He probably doesn’t wanna talk, but…y’know.”

Church nodded, and Tucker left the kitchen with a knot in his stomach. He knocked on Junior’s door, not surprised when he got no answer. “Hey, dude. I figured we both needed a day off, so I called the school for you. We don’t have to talk right now, but we will talk later.”

No answer. Tucker had expected that, so he just nodded and backed away from the door. He contemplated going back to the kitchen, then found himself walking into his own room and locking the door behind him. He collapsed onto his back on his mattress, staring up at the dusty ceiling fan. He still had no idea what to do, and his anxiety spiked as he realized he now had to have another appointment with the school psychologist, and Junior’s teacher, and then their MD to get a new prescription, plus Junior had work missing that he would need to make up…

Tucker remembered suddenly that Junior was visiting Carmen that weekend, and fumbled for his phone to call her. She lived farther away, so Tucker got all of the correspondence from Junior’s school and relayed necessary information to her himself. She was likely just as in the dark as he was.

“Hey, Tucker,” came her voice over the receiver, sounding a bit far away. “You’re on speaker, sorry, I’m cooking for once.”

Tucker snorted, smiling a bit. “Holy shit, has Hell frozen over?”

“Fuck you,” she snickered. “What’s up?”

Tucker sighed heavily, draping his arm over his eyes. “We got a problem with the kiddo.”

“Uh oh,” he could hear the grimace in her voice. “What happened?”

“Well, first of all, his report card came today,” Tucker told her. “He’s failing pretty much everything except English. And Gym, but like, I’d be a different kind of worried if he was failing fucking Gym.”

“Shit, failing? Why didn’t we hear anything?” Carmen asked confusedly. “Don’t they usually like, send home tests with them?”

“Yeah. Apparently he’s been just, not bringing them,” Tucker scoffed. “So I haven’t seen shit. Not only that, but I caught him trying to flush one of his pills this morning.”

“What, like, down the toilet?”

“Yep,” Tucker sighed, popping the ‘p’. “He says he hates them and doesn’t need them. I don’t know what to do about it, because I mean, I’ve never taken them. I dunno what they feel like. But he says he feels like a zombie, and he doesn’t wanna eat and he gets irritable and shit. I feel like making him take it is the wrong thing, but I don’t think I can just let him go through school without some kinda help.”

“Dude, slow down,” Carmen told him firmly. “You’re talking a million miles an hour.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool. Just fucking breath,” she laughed quietly. “Now listen. The pills he’s on are probably just not the right ones for him. We can get him back to the doctor and get some new ones. He’s still little, we’ve got time to test ‘em out before he gets to middle school.”

Tucker nodded slowly. “Yes. That’s good. Keep saying shit like that.”

Carmen snickered before continuing. “Also, it’s only halfway through the year. We can get him tutoring and shit and get his grades back up. I’ll make sure to work with him on his homework this weekend, maybe we’ll figure out a schedule so he can make up the stuff he’s missed.”

Tucker nodded, swallowing but unable to help his voice cracking as he spoke. “Okay. Yeah. That’s good.”

“Tucker? Are you crying?”

“No,” Tucker huffed as tears rolling down his temples. “Fuck, sorry, man. I’m just…having a really shitty fucking couple of weeks.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Tucker scoffed, smiling a bit. “Uh. It’s a guy.”

“Oh, yeah? You dating again?”

“Not really. I uh…I invited him up to my mom’s reunion party as my fake-boyfriend.”

“…dude.”

“I know.”

“ _Dude_.”

“I _know_.”

“Haven’t you ever seen The Proposal? That shit never works out!”

“I get it, alright?” Tucker huffed. “It was a stupid idea. I had a tiny crush on him but I didn’t think it was like, a thing, until we got there. And then we had to like, share a bed, and him and J get along so good, and I just…I’m really into him.”

“Is he not into you?” Carmen asked, her voice sounding more nearby.

“No, he is.”

“Sooo…? I don’t understand.”

“I kinda…” Tucker grimaced. “I told him I didn’t feel that way about him.”

“…Tucker, what the fuck _for_?”

“I was scared!” Tucker whined, knowing he sounded pathetic. “I was scared of…it. Of him. I don’t know. I didn’t want anything to change. I’ve lost friends before because I dated them.”

“Dude. You had a baby with me and we’re still friends.”

“We’re different,” Tucker scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Me and you were like, cut from the same stardust or some shit.”

“Weak.”

“Shut up.”

“Look, Tucker,” Carmen sighed, her voice going gentle again. “We should probably deal with one thing at a time, but…it sounds like this guy is really getting to you. I think it’s stupid as hell for you to deny yourself.”

“He’s too good, C,” Tucker murmured, his voice cracking just a bit. “He’s too fucking good. I can’t…I can’t.”

“I don’t even wanna hear that,” Carmen scoffed, and Tucker was briefly reminded of his mother, oh god. “You’re always talking like that, and it makes the people who do love you really pissed off, y’know that?”

Tucker grimaced, face burning a little. “Sorry. I don’t mean it to sound like-”

“And stop apologizing,” Carmen sighed in exasperation. “You’re not to blame for everything bad that happens, Tucker. Sometimes shit just sucks and you gotta navigate. That’s it.”

Tucker smiled weakly, passing a hand over his mouth. “You’re pretty fucking smart. Why’d you have to move?”

“Because Michigan’s economy is fucking garbage,” Carmen teased, and he could hear her grin. “You’re gonna be fine, T. Just stop raging against the world for one fucking second.”

“Yeah.” Tucker took a shaky, cleansing breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “Sorry for sobbing down the phone at you.”

“Nah. That’s what I’m here for.”

“You’re the best,” Tucker laughed, smiling crookedly. “I’ll text you later, okay? After I talk to J.”

“Sounds good. Send me a pic of his report card too, would you?”

“Totally. Night. Love you.”

“Love you too, later.”

Tucker hung up and dropped his phone to the bed, feeling a bit lighter in his chest. Shit was still, well, shitty. But Carmen and Church ad made it seem a lot more manageable. Wash wash like that, too; took Tucker’s catastrophizing and broke it down into small tasks that he felt able to accomplish.

Tucker loved that about him.


	8. Chapter 8

Tucker hesitated outside of Junior’s bedroom door, taking deep breaths. He could do this. He just needed to try and do it without fucking crying; he didn’t wanna scare the kid or make him think things were worse than they really were. It was hard, though. The fear of Junior growing up to be him was enough to choke him. He clenched his jaw and knocked softly on the door. “J.” No answer. “J, let me in. I wanna talk to you. No more yelling, okay?”

It was quiet for another long minute, and Tucker started to wonder if he was gonna have to be an asshole and go in anyway, but the door eventually cracked a bit. Half of Junior’s face appeared in the gap, his cheek tear stained and his eye puffy. ”What?” he asked hoarsely, looking miserable.

Tucker sighed heavily, frowning down at him. “Let me in, dude. Let’s talk.”

Junior searched his eyes for a moment, then stepped away from the door. He sniffled loudly and wiped his nose on his sleeve, going to sit on the bed. Tucker followed, closing the door gently behind them before crossing the room and perching on the opposite corner of the mattress. Junior’s room was cluttered with toys, something Tucker was very proud of. His walls were also plastered with superhero and cartoon posters, some of them curling at the edges and bleached from the sun.

“Okay, first - I’m sorry I yelled,” Tucker began seriously, looking right into Junior’s eyes when they lifted. “I shouldn’t have, I just kinda lost it.”

Junior stared at him for a moment, then nodded, shrugging weakly. “S’okay. I yelled, too.”

“Still.” Tucker cleared his throat, not liking how far away they were sitting but forcing himself to deal with it. “Alright, so. About school.”

Junior looked about ready to burst into tears all over again. “I’m sorry I’m doing bad,” he whimpered, voice wavering dangerously.

Fuck it. Tucker reached out and pulled him toward him instantly, wrapping him up in his arms and squeezing him tight. Junior burst into sobs all over again, burying his face into Tucker’s chest and clinging with his skinny arms and tiny hands. “You don’t need to say sorry to me,” Tucker said firmly, though his throat was a little constricted. “You hear me? I’m not mad, and we’re gonna figure this shit out together.”

Junior nodded, still crying and hiccuping and coughing a little bit. “O-oka-ay,” he stuttered around gasps.

“Alright, alright,” Tucker said gently, holding him back at arm’s length. “Take a deep breath, J. In for three seconds. Out for five.”

Junior did as Tucker asked, his wide, watery brown eyes locked with his father’s as he breathed. He calmed down after a few moments, only hiccuping softly into the space between them.

“There you go,” Tucker smiled, rubbing his back briefly. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I talked to Mom earlier.”

Junior’s eyes, still streaming, went a little wide. “Is she mad?”

“Nah, no one’s mad,” Tucker assured him again, feeling his heart tug a little. “We’re just worried. We want you to do well, to learn stuff so you can be smart.”

“I’m not smart,” Junior murmured, looking down. “I don’t like the pills, but if I don’t take them, then I’m stupid.”

“Hey. New rule: no more saying the word ‘stupid’,” Tucker told him firmly. “That counts for me, too, okay? No one’s fucking stupid around here.”

Junior nodded silently, rubbing his nose again. Tucker reached to get a tissue from the box on the nightstand and handed it over, waiting for Junior to blow his nose before continuing. “So yeah. I talked to Mom, and she thinks we should go back to the doctor and get you a new kind of pill. Maybe one that doesn’t make you feel so bad.”

Junior pulled a face, looking up at him. “They have different kinds?”

“Yeah, totally,” Tucker nodded, grinning at him. “And if you don’t like that one, we’ll try a different one. And we’ll keep trying them until we find one you like, okay? I’m not gonna force you to take something that makes you feel bad.”

Junior nodded slowly, thinking that over. “I guess that’s okay,” he said eventually, voice quiet.

“Until then,” Tucker sighed, smiling wryly. “We gotta get your work made up, dude.”

Junior grimaced, looking down. “Really?”

“Yep. So, someone has to talk to your teachers and see if we can get you some makeup work to do. You can either do it by yourself or I can come in and do it with you. What do you wanna do?”

Junior was quiet as he thought it over. “…if you come do it with me, it’s like I’m still a baby.”

“Is not,” Tucker argued, nudging him. “Look dude, I know you think you’re all grown up and shit, but it’s okay to ask people for help. Especially me. Always, _always_ ask me for help, J.”

Junior glanced up at him, a little unsure, then smiled briefly. “Um. Well, then…could you come with me? I dunno what to say. I’m scared they’ll be mad at me.”

“Yeah, I’ll come in tomorrow after school, before I go to work,” Tucker suggested, smiling when Junior nodded. “Mom says she’ll work on stuff with you this weekend. She won’t make you do it the whole time, but this is kinda what happens when you don’t do your work right away,” Tucker shrugged. “Believe me, I have so been there before. It’s never fun.”

Junior shook his head with wide eyes, his face the picture of Tucker melodrama. “No, it sounds really crappy.”

“Totally crappy. But it’s cool, Mom and I will help you and then we’ll get you a not-shitty pill, yeah?” Tucker grinned when Junior nodded, looking much calmer. “Cool. Come here.” Tucker pulled him in for another hug, squeezing him tight and kissing the top of his head. Junior’s curls tickled his nose. “I love you, kid. And I’m so fucking proud of you, alright?”

Junior smiled and nodded, rubbing his eyes. “Love you too, dad.”

“Alright, no more crying, damn,” Tucker laughed, his own eyes a bit welled up as he cleared his throat. “So. Since we both have the whole day off, you wanna go play some PS4?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright, dude, race you to the living room! Ow, no kicking, that’s cheating!”

“Maybe you’re just too old to race me!”

“Oh, you are _so_ gonna get it.”

***

Talking with Junior’s teachers went better than expected. He only had two, which made life easy, and they both told Junior they were proud of him for being a man and taking care of his responsibilities. Junior looked thrilled at the praise, promising that he was going to do better and even going on a tangent about how he was going to the doctor next week and getting new pills. Tucker snorted and cut him off there, thanking them both and tucking the manila folder of assignments under his arm. Junior still needed to learn about when and when not to share certain things, but he supposed being proud of getting new meds wasn’t the worst thing he could over-share about.

He packed Junior up that weekend with the folder of work tucked into his backpack. He drove to the halfway point that he and Carmen always exchanged Junior at, he and Junior belting Disney songs the whole way. Tucker grinned when he saw Carmen already parked at the rest stop as they pulled in, eager to see her for the first time since Junior’s summer vacation. “Hey, dude,” he greeted when she stepped out of her car at the same time as he did.

“Hey, other dude,” she grinned, hugging him tightly. She laughed when Junior leapt at her, catching him in her arms and holding him up. “Hey, Junior! Did you grow in the last couple weeks?!”

“Yeah!” Junior laughed, even though he definitely didn’t.

Carmen snickered and set him down, crossing her arms and turning to Tucker. “Drive okay?”

“Yeah, it was fine,” Tucker shrugged.

“You look tired. You talked to this guy yet?” Carmen asked, giving him a stern look.

“His name is Wash. And…no,” Tucker grimaced, sticking his hands in his pockets. “He’ll barely even look at me at work. I don’t know how to start.”

“You’ll figure the words out,” Carmen assured him. “Just do it soon, okay? You look like shit.”

Tucker snorted, shoving her lightly. “Fuck you, too.”

She grinned, standing up on her toes to peck his cheek swiftly. “We gotta get going before traffic gets shitty, but why don’t you plan on hanging out for a bit when you pick him up on Sunday? Maybe we could go to dinner or a movie with him, or something.”

“Yeah, totally,” Tucker agreed, smiling widely. “I miss having you around, man.”

“Me too,” Carmen admitted, smiling wistfully. “One day I’ll come back to Blood Gulch. Probably.”

“Probably,” Tucker smirked, shaking his head fondly. “See you later, C. Drive safe.”

“You too. Come on, kiddo, let’s get going.” Tucker hugged Junior goodbye, then watched as Carmen made sure he was buckled in before climbing into the driver’s seat. She rolled down her window as she pulled away. “Talk to Wash!” she called out the window.

“Alright, alright!” he shouted back, smirking and waving as she pulled onto the street and drove away. She and Junior’s hands were stuck out their windows as they waved back.

***

Tucker wasn’t smiling as he pulled into his parking space at work that evening. Nor was he smiling when he let himself into the back and to the break area, listening to his co-workers chattering about the staff party that weekend. Apparently Donut had walked in on Grif and Simmons dry humping in his spare bedroom, though, which was certainly enough to pique Tucker’s interest.

“I’m sorry, what are they, fifteen?” he asked, laughing despite the brick in his gut.

“Tucker, be sensitive!” Donut gasped, though the corners of his mouth twitched enough to betray his amusement. “They’re discovering their true feelings! They’re in love!”

Tucker grimaced. Bad mood was back. “Yeah. Sometimes that shit sucks.”

Donut stared at him, his gaze instantly sharpening. “…do you wanna talk about it?”

“Fuck off, Donut.”

He spent the rest of the night feeling surly, using all of his energy reserves to be mildly pleasant to his tables so he could at least get some fucking tips. Making no money would just be the icing on the cake.

So far, every time he’d gone to ask for a drink for his table at the bar, he’d run into everyone but Wash, who was unfortunately fulfilling his promise to Simmons and working his second double-shift weekend. Tucker started to get slammed around seven, though, and couldn’t keep timing his trips up to the bar to avoid him.

He approached the shelf where the bartenders dropped off drinks for the servers, freezing when Wash turned to see who was standing there and went just as still. His eyes weren’t round like Tucker’s; instead, he looked almost like he couldn’t care less that Tucker was standing in front of him.

“Uh,” Tucker croaked, blinking like a deer in headlights. “C-can I get a rum and coke and a Rochester Red?”

Wash didn’t answer, just turned away and made probably the fastest and messiest rum and coke Tucker had ever seen. He set the bottle of beer and glass of sloppy mixed drink on the shelf with a sharp clack. “Rochester Red. Rum and coke,” he recited tersely, before practically power walking to the opposite end of the fucking bar.

Tucker swallowed, bowing his head as he took the drinks and walked away almost as quickly, delivering them with a subdued air. He didn’t run into Wash again, probably because every time he began to approach the bar Wash found something far more pressing to do as far away from him as possible. Tucker was half relieved he didn’t have to keep having those mortifying run-ins, but by closing time he had to duck into the men’s bathroom to cry.

He dragged himself into his apartment at 2:30am, fucking exhausted and barely making it to his bed. He collapsed face-first into the mattress, groaning at his sore legs and back. His hands still smelled like bleach and beer, and he pulled a grossed-out face. Still, he didn’t care enough to get up and clean himself off, and passed out in his work clothes within minutes.

***

“Alright. We need to talk.”

Tucker looked up from where he was sitting in the corner of the couch. He’d been staring out the window for…a while, actually. He wasn’t sure how long; he’d gotten lost in his thoughts. It was the following day, and Tucker had woken up feeling so unlike himself that he’d called in sick to work.

Church was standing in front of him, now, arms crossed and lips pursed slightly. “What about?” Tucker asked, rubbing his face with a heavy sigh.

“You and your goddamn moping. You’ve been fucking useless since you came back from that trip,” Church told him firmly. “What happened?”

Tucker swallowed, shrugging and avoiding his eyes. “Nothing.”

“Oh, bullshit.” Church huffed, sitting on the opposite end of the couch and staring at him expectantly.

Tucker rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw harder the longer Church stared at him. “I…it’s Wash.”

“What about Wash?”

“I’m into him. I mean. I think…I think I’m… _really, really_ into him.”

Church snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, no shit.”

Tucker glared at him, bristling a bit. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means thank fuck you finally said it out loud, man, Jesus,” Church scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “So what are you doing sitting around here moping about him for? Doesn’t he wanna be with you, too?”

“Yeah, but…that doesn’t mean we should be.”

Church let out a long breath, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. “Look, man. You know that I know all the fuck about relationships where two people just aren’t right for each other. I’ve tried to make it work with Tex like, eight fucking times, and she keeps slippin’ out of my hands like a goddamn fish.” Tucker snorted, smiling a bit. “So I get it, alright? But you and Wash…dude, that’s not you guys.”

Tucker pulled a face, giving him a look. “How the fuck would you know?”

“I have been somewhat paying fucking attention the past few years,” Church scoffed. “You guys are fucking weird. Like…magnets. You move around each other like you’re in your own private orbit and it’s honestly disgusting,” Church smirked, nudging Tucker with his foot when he laughed quietly. “And I know he went on that trip with you because he cares about you, dude. He wouldn’t have given you the time of day with that bullshit idea if he didn’t.”

“…he said he loves me.”

“Do you love him back, or what, then?”

Tucker stared at him, thinking that over. “…maybe,” he admitted softly.

“Well don’t tell me,” Church said sternly. “Go fucking tell _him_.”

Tucker let out a shaky breath, hugging one of the throw pillows close to his chest. “It’s scary.”

“Damn right it is. But you deserve him, dude,” Church told him, more earnest than Tucker could ever remember him being. It made his ears burn a bit and his heart swell a lot. “You deserve something good so you can chill the fuck out once in a while. You stay this tightly wound and you’re gonna pop one day.”

Tucker leaned over and hugged his best friend tightly, pressing his forehead to Church’s shoulder and clinging. Church let him, patting his back a bit awkwardly but the contact was still warm. “Thanks,” Tucker muttered into Church’s hoodie, squeezing briefly.

“Yeah, alright,” Church stuttered awkwardly, his face a couple shades redder. “Don’t cry on me, man.”

Tucker laughed weakly and sat up, taking a deep breath. “God, this fucking sucks.”

“Yeah. It’d suck less if you’d get your shit together.”

Tucker nodded, frowning thoughtfully at his fingers as they twisted in his lap.

_Yeah. It probably would._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These bad boys are comin' out rapid fire! We're nearing the end - two more chapter's, y'all!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: NSFW

Wash looked up at the heavy thud heard through the rain against his window, his chin resting in his hand as he tried valiantly to study for his exam. He frowned, thinking it must have been a bird, and went back to the passage he’d been reading. It was silent for a few moments, and then it sounded again. Wash looked up,squinting, the blinked when he realized tiny rocks were being thrown at his window. He got out of his desk chair and approached, peering through the rivulets of rainwater and blinking when he saw a figure in his lawn. Upon further inspection, the figure was familiar, short and wearing a teal sweatshirt with the hood pulled up.

He pushed the window up and open, staring out at Tucker blankly for a moment. His gut twisted at seeing his face, but confusion won out over his desire to continue ignoring him. “Tucker, what the hell are you doing out there?”

“Come downstairs,” Tucker called, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Please. I know I was an asshole, but I just need to talk to you.”

Wash paused, considering telling him no, fuck no, do you have any idea how much you hurt me? Instead, he said, “Okay,” and shut the window again. He took a deep breath, before grabbing a sweater from his closet and pulling it on as he exited his apartment and went downstairs. He came out of the building and paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of Tucker before him. He was soaked through, had pulled his hood away and got his hair and face drenched too. His shoulders were slumped, and he had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept well.

“Wash.”

“Tucker.”

Tucker took a deep breath, then swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a little raised to be heard over the rain and distance between them. “I’m so sorry, Wash. What I said…what I did…I was just scared,” Tucker huffed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away. “That’s not an excuse. I know that. I just…you know, I’m really lucky to have you. In my life.”

Wash stared at him, letting him talk as his heart began to beat more quickly. The rain was loud and heavy, and he strained his ears to hear every syllable that fell from Tucker’s mouth. He was overcome, suddenly, with how much he’d missed him.

“I’m lucky to have you as my friend. One of my best friends,” Tucker continued, his voice going a little bit hoarse. “And I just, fuck, Wash. I was fucking scared of making it weird at first. And then when you said all that stuff, I was scared of change. I was scared that this was gonna fuck things up between us, and I’d lose you. I hate fucking losing people.” Tucker rubbed his eyes, taking a shaky breath. Wash could tell he was tearing up, even with the rain.

Wash couldn’t take that, and he started to approach him slowly. Tucker looked a little nervous, watching him with wide eyes and looking like he half wanted to run.The rain soaked Wash’s hair almost instantly, as well his his shoulders and thighs and face. He didn’t stop though, continuing on as Tucker began to babble nervously. “I was wrong,” he stuttered, voice a little shaky. “I shouldn’t have said that stuff. And I lied. I do feel that way about you. I feel a lot of things about you. I feel…” He trailed off, the words dying as Wash came to a stop before him, within touching distance, their toes nearly brushing together.

“Kiss me,” Wash said softly, reaching to stroke Tucker’s dripping jaw.

“Shit,” Tucker croaked, throwing his arms around Wash’s neck and crashing their mouths together.

It was cold, and clumsy, and slippery, and perfect. Wash wrapped his own arms around Tucker’s waist and held him tight to his body, soaking himself the rest of the way through and beaming against Tucker’s lips. Tucker’s fingers tangled themselves into Wash’s hair, keeping him from going anywhere, and Wash laughed quietly. As if he would.

“Let’s go inside,” Wash murmured, smiling as Tucker nodded with chattering teeth. “Come on.” He took Tucker’s hand, which was absolutely freezing, and led the way inside. They dripped all over the stairs and, once they got into Wash’s apartment, the carpet. Wash took them straight to the bedroom, grabbing a towel from his closet. Wash patted his face and hair and then Tucker dry, trying to rub warmth back into him.

He straightened, and blinked when Tucker suddenly grabbed his shoulders and yanked him in for another firm kiss. This one was more heated, Tucker winding one arm around Wash’s middle and the other around the back of Wash’s head. He buried his fingers into his hair again, parting his lips and swirling his tongue as he explored Wash’s mouth.

Wash groaned and frowned, pulling him closer. Tucker tasted good, in a way he couldn’t quite place. And his kiss was steaming hot, especially compared to his frigid skin, and his hands on Wash, keeping him in place, made Wash’s heart go mad. He bent his knees, and Tucker instantly leapt up, his legs wrapping tightly around Wash’s waist and his arms around his neck. Wash spun, pressing him up against the wall.

“Wash,” Tucker breathed, his lips soft as they brushed against Wash’s when he spoke.

“Tucker,” Wash whispered back, grinning as he ducked his head to kiss down the side of Tucker’s neck. He smelled like rain and baby oil and cheap detergent.

Tucker just sighed, tilting his head to the side and doing his best to press his hips forward while pinned to the wall. Wash ignored the urgency for a moment, taking his time kissing every inch of Tucker’s skin he could reach. When he ran out, he pulled aside the collar of Tucker’s t-shirt (his own t-shirt, technically, and goddamn did Tucker look good in it) and sucked hungrily at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Ah! Wash,” Tucker practically whined, clinging tighter. Wash got the hint and pulled Tucker away from the wall, spinning and walking him the few steps across the room before dumping him on the bed. Tucker grunted as he landed on the mattress with a heavy bounce, laughing breathlessly. “Don’t fucking dump me like a sack of potatoes, you asshole.”

Wash just snickered and crawled on with him, moving up Tucker’s body like a playful predator. They were both still breathing a bit heavily, but the frenzy had subsided somewhat, replaced by cloth brushing cloth and breath mingling with breath, touching and yet distinctly not touching enough. Wash felt Tucker’s fingers, warm now that he was out of the frigid rain, sneaking underneath the hem of his shirt. He sat up on his knees, straddling Tucker’s hips, and pulled the tee over his head before tossing it to the ground.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tucker breathed, reaching to slide his fingertips over the dips in Wash’s stomach where the muscle was firm. “No one looks like this, dude.”

Wash laughed loudly in surprise, feeling his face burning. “Stop,” he grinned, shivering when Tucker’s fingers chased a trail over his belly button and down the center line of his pelvis. “Okay, don’t stop,” he amended softly, watching their progress.

Tucker glanced up at him, grinning his dazzling grin. He kept his eyes on Wash’s as he dipped his fingers past his waistband, and Wash went easily when Tucker pulled him down for another feverish kiss. After a few moments they started to become more heated, more desperate, and Wash grunted softly against Tucker’s mouth as he felt the heel of a palm rubbing up against the bulge in his sweatpants. Suddenly there were far, far too many clothes on both of them, and Wash sat up again, pulling his t-shirt over Tucker’s head.

Tucker wrestled himself into a sitting position and lifted his arms, letting the fabric slip over his head and leave his torso bare. Wash paused to look at him for a moment, their new position finding him comfortably straddling Tucker’s lap, Tucker’s hands resting on his ass. He’d seen Tucker shirtless before, obviously, and quite recently; they’d both been in bathing suits at the reunion. It was different perched here, though, Tucker’s warmth radiating outward and wrapping him up safely in his orbit, Wash’s ass settled against the growing erection in Tucker’s lap. He rocked back against it experimentally, grinning when Tucker inhaled sharply through his nose.

“You okay down there?” Wash teased softly, his arms winding around Tucker’s neck.

“Fuck you,” Tucker laughed breathlessly, surging upward to capture his mouth again. He tangled his hand into Wash’s hair once more, using it to hold him still as their tongues tangled and their hips began to roll and shift in tandem. Soon they were panting fiercely through their noses just to keep from passing out, unwilling to separate for even a moment. “Naked,” Tucker muttered, laughing weakly when Wash snorted. “We need to be naked. Get up for a sec.”

Wash slid backward, watching for a moment as Tucker began to wrestle out of his shorts. He allowed that, but reached out to stop him when he went to do the same to his briefs. Tucker blinked at him, but slowly lowered his hands, so Wash crawled forward as he had before, this time pressing hot kisses up the inside of Tucker’s right thigh. He journeyed all the way up to the crease of his hip, proud when Tucker twitched a bit and gasped, and then bypassed the erection straining underneath fabric. His lips found Tucker’s hip bones, sucking and nipping at them both before traveling to his center line. Finally he reached a dark, hardened nipple, and he took it into his mouth experimentally.

Tucker gasped and jerked like he’d been shocked, and Wash was a little worried he’d hurt him somehow before he heard the keening whine. “You’re sensitive there,” he noted with a sly grin.

“Uh huh,” was all Tucker could manage in reply.

Wash got right back to it, eyes on Tucker’s face as he latched on and swirled his tongue around the bud. Tucker breathed so beautifully when he did it, Wash thought wildly. Soft and ethereal, like a breeze through summer leaves. He moved to the other when an understated blotch started to rise up around the overused nipple.

“Wash, Wash, Wash,” Tucker whined, tossing his head. “Please, holy fuck, please fucking touch me.”

Wash could feel his body going hot gradually, starting at his head and then traveling down to his toes like a wave. He released Tucker’s nipple and shuffled back, hooking his fingers in his briefs and tugging them down. He kicked off his own pants and underwear before allowing himself to get a good look, swallowing thickly when he did. Tucker was gorgeous, sprawled out with his legs slightly spread and his arms bracketing his head. His hair was fanned out on Wash’s pillow, his eyes half lidded and his jaw hanging loosely as he evenly met Wash’s gaze.

“Tucker, I love you,” he murmured, the words tumbling out like they’d been straining against the inside of his teeth, desperate to do so again.

“Wash,” Tucker breathed, reaching for him and sighing happily when Wash rested his body against him, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. “I love you, too."

Wash’s heart twisted exquisitely at the same time that his libido went through the fucking roof. He dove on Tucker like he was starving, sucking and nipping and kissing his mouth fiercely. He began to rock his hips again, their cocks throbbing by now and straining even more as they slid against each other. He could only take a minute or so of that before he was practically throwing himself at his nightstand, digging around for his lube and condoms. He had to dig pretty deep, as he hadn’t gotten laid in quite a damn while, but he eventually fished them out. He tossed them aside for the moment in favor of kissing Tucker again, Tucker moaning softly against his mouth as Wash cradled his head in his hand like he was precious, because he was. Precious and perfect and God, Wash _loved him_ , and Tucker loved him right back. Tucker loved him, and the knowledge drove Wash to want for nothing more than to make him come his fucking brains out.

With that goal in mind he moved backward again, snatching up the lube and pouring out a liberal amount. He wasn’t sure about Tucker, but he knew it had been a minute since he’d been with a guy, so he wanted to make sure Tucker wasn’t in any kind of discomfort. He worked slowly at opening Tucker up, his eyes on Tucker’s face to make sure everything felt tolerable, if not good, and grinned when he suddenly found his sweet spot while two fingers and three knuckles deep. “Right there?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Tucker groaned, arching and curling his toes. “Holy fucking God, Wash, hurry up, I’m gonna fucking die.”

Wash laughed and kissed his pelvic bone warmly before slowly withdrawing his fingers. He dried them on the comforter - he was gonna do laundry anyway, he thought randomly - before sitting back and tearing open the condom. His fingers were a little shaky from excitement so he almost dropped it, grinning when Tucker laughed breathlessly at him. “Shut up,” he teased, rolling it on as quickly as he could manage. Once that was done he crawled forward again, Tucker canting his hips upward and spreading his legs wide. Wash took a moment to admire the view before taking Tucker’s hips into his hands, his fingertips pressing gently into Tucker’s flesh as he slid inside of him as carefully as he could.

Tucker didn’t tense, but he did inhale sharply before letting it out in a slow sigh. Wash frowned, trying to concentrate but hardly able to tolerate the sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine like lightning. Tucker’s body was warm and inviting and he wanted more, Tucker was always so warm and he wanted to be surrounded in it. He lowered his torso to press against Tucker’s scorching one, kissing him firmly as they both adjusted. Tucker’s arms lifted lazily, as if in a dream, and tucked underneath Wash’s so he could cling to his back.

“Come on,” Tucker murmured after a minute, his lips caressing Wash’s as he whispered. “Give it to me.”

Wash swallowed, shivering briefly as Tucker’s voice sent goosebumps cascading over his arms and down his back. He instantly obeyed - as if he wouldn’t do anything, anything for Tucker - and began to rock his hips slowly. Tucker groaned quietly, his dark eyes sliding closed. Wash’s stayed locked on his face as he began to increase his speed, his breath coming more quick and short the more the pleasure mounted.

Soon, Tucker was clinging for dear life, whining and crying out. “Wash, baby,” he whimpered, pressing his forehead to Wash’s. The thrusts were now so quick that their skin slapped together noisily, the only sound apart from the rain drops pattering gently against the window. “Feels so fucking good, you make me feel so fucking good.”

Wash didn’t have a grasp on English anymore, so he just kissed him in response, sucking at his bottom lip before letting him go again as even that brief lack of oxygen made him a bit light-headed. He tucked his nose into Tucker’s neck, inhaling his musk and moaning loudly as he found himself suddenly much closer to the edge than he’d expected. He snapped his hips harder in response, wanting Tucker to come first.

“Oh, God!” Tucker cried out, arching his back and his hands flying back to grip either side of the pillow underneath his head. “Wash, _God_ , fuck yeah, that’s so good, that’s so so good! Ohhh, don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna fucking come, holy _shit_!”

There was a rush of warmth against Wash’s stomach and he groaned, grinding his hips into Tucker’s body as far as he could reach as the muscles clamped down around him. Moments later and he reached his own climax, letting out a hoarse whine and riding out the waves while Tucker was still gasping, twitching, and pulsating. He pressed a scorching kiss to Tucker’s lips.

Soon Wash felt too shaky to hold himself up any longer, and he fell to the side, collapsing on his back beside Tucker and staring up at the ceiling as they both caught their breath. He disposed of the condom as an after-thought, glad that his trash can was nearby because there was no way his legs were working.

After a long silence Tucker’s arm came into his field of vision, stealing a tissue off of his nightstand. “Sorry,” Tucker murmured, smiling a bit. “Just didn’t wanna wait for the jizz to cool. No one likes wiping off cold jizz.”

“Right,” Wash snorted, eyes still on the ceiling as the afterglow settled over him like a blanket. He turned his head to the side to find Tucker already looking at him, his eyes sparkling and the corners of his mouth gently lifted. Wash paused, his heart tugging and then nearly bursting inside of his chest as he searched those dark eyes, and then reached to stroke Tucker’s sharp cheekbone with his knuckles. “I love you.”

Tucker grinned gently, taking his hand and interlacing their fingers. “I love you, too,” he said softly, but clearly, and kissed the cluster of freckles on Wash’s middle knuckle.

Wash laughed, with no other way to expel the joy in his chest, and tugged Tucker closer until they were skin to skin once again. Tucker sighed contently, shifting until his cheek and ear were pressed to Wash’s chest. “You are so fucking comfy, dude.”

“Thanks,” Wash snickered. “So are you. You’re like a furnace.”

“Are you trying to say I’m hot? Because we both already knew that,” Tucker teased, grinning up at him with his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Shut up.” Wash smirked as his eyes slid closed, a long sigh escaping through his nose. “Nap time. Talking later.”

“Okay,” Tucker agreed, settling down again. He draped an arm over Wash’s torso, and tangled up their feet and legs, and pressed his nose into Wash’s neck.

Wash couldn’t help the small smile, passing out from pure warmth and exhaustion with his arms and heart full of Lavernius Tucker.


	10. Chapter 10

Tucker woke an hour or so later feeling warm. Almost swelteringly so.

His eyes cracked open slowly, blinking a few times to adjust his vision. The rain had stopped outside, and the daylight had gone dim as the day ventured into early evening. As he woke up a bit more, Tucker took in more sensations and smiled to himself.

Breath on his shoulder. Feet tangled up with his own, tucked warmly underneath an unfamiliar, but comfortable, duvet. Warmth all along his back and the backs of his legs, and an arm draped across his middle.

Tucker moved a little closer, trying to avoid waking Wash up. The arm tightened around him, and he smiled as he heard the telltale sniff of Wash stirring. “Sorry,” he murmured, turning his head to look at him. “I tried not to wake you up.”

“It’s okay,” Wash whispered back, smiling sleepily. There was an imprint from the pillow on his cheek, and one that Tucker assumed was from his shirt on his forehead. Wash had slept with it pressed to Tucker’s shoulder blade for nearly the full hour they’d been napping.

“You look cute,” Tucker told him with a grin, then pecked his lips because he was allowed to do that now. That was a thing he could do, whenever he wanted, because they were…hm. “Hey, so…we should probably talk.”

Wash nodded,reaching to brush one of Tucker dreads away from his face. “Yeah. Let me make us coffee?”

“Okay.”

Tucker sat up, watching as Wash rolled out of bed still completely naked. He ogled him shamelessly, grinning when Wash caught him and raised an eyebrow. “It’s a good butt, Dave.”

“Stop calling me Dave,” Wash deadpanned, though his slight smirk gave him away. He retrieved the dry clothes they’d changed into and managed to wear for about sixty seconds before taking them back off, handing Tucker the basketball shorts and t-shirt he’d lent him. Tucker snickered in amusement and put them on, inhaling Wash’s scent like a complete dork and not even ashamed about it.

He followed Wash out of the bedroom and down the hall, looking around. The place looked a lot cleaner than Tucker had ever seen it, and the living room appeared to have been changed around since the last time he’d been there, about two weeks before their trip. Tucker fought the grimace as his brain couldn’t help but wonder if that was a stress response or if he was just making it into something it wasn’t.

The kitchen was similarly spotless and also looked like it had been redecorated a bit. Tucker ignored that in favor of picking out mugs for the two of them from the cupboard above the sink, letting Wash take care of making them coffee. His mug was glossy and aqua, and Wash’s was cobalt blue with yellow stripes. They both had chips in their rims from overuse.

He and Wash were both quiet as the coffee brewed, listening to the dark liquid trickle into the thoughtful silence. Tucker tried to piece together what he wanted to say now that he had time, now that he didn’t have to get it all out in a rush before Wash could turn his back and leave. Minutes after that, and they were both sitting on Wash’s couch with their steaming mugs. Wash sat tucked into the corner, and Tucker perched beside him, legs crossed underneath him and body oriented to face Wash fully.

“So,” Wash began, glancing at him.

“So. That happened,” Tucker laughed quietly, grinning playfully at him.

Wash snorted, nodding as he smiled widely himself. “Yeah. It certainly did.”

“I didn’t come here with that in mind. I really did wanna just say that stuff,” Tucker promised, suddenly worried that Wash would get the wrong idea. “Everything else just kind of…”

“Happened,” Wash supplied, grinning crookedly at him. “I know. If you remember, I jumped you just as fast.”

Tucker laughed shortly, nodding. “Yeah. I remember.” He paused, watching Wash watching him. “I hurt you. Really bad.”

“…yeah,” Wash admitted, nodding slowly. “That really sucked.”

“And I get if you like, can’t trust me, or whatever,” Tucker murmured, trying to pretend the idea didn’t kill him inside. “We don’t have to date. I just wanted to tell you.”

“I want to be with you, Tucker. You’re not getting away from me again,” Wash told him quite seriously, looking into his eyes. “I do trust you. I trust you with everything.”

“I…trust you too. I’m glad,” Tucker stuttered awkwardly, cheeks burning just a bit. “I promise I won’t do anything like that to you again. I was too scared to even think, I was so st-” He paused, remembering his promise to Junior. “It was a bad call. A mistake. And I wanna fix it.”

Wash nodded, watching him for a moment. “I get you were scared. And I realize you probably weren’t in the most comfortable brain space at that moment. That probably didn’t help.”

Tucker almost denied it, then pulled a face as he remembered what a wreck he’d been that day. “…yeah. Yeah, I wasn’t feeling good. At all.”

“Yeah.” Wash took a breath, reaching to take Tucker’s free hand and squeeze it. “I forgive you. I understand.”

Tucker smiled, squeezing back as he bowed his head slightly. “Thanks. I would understand if-”

“Tucker,” Wash interrupted gently. “I said I forgive you. Trust me.”

Tucker nodded slowly, smiling a little wider and scooting to sit closer. “So. Um. Are we like, dating?”

“I’d like to be,” Wash told him with a soft grin. “If you want to.”

“Totally,” Tucker said with an eager nod. “I totally want to. I just…I’m kind of a mess, man. I’m basically a human tornado, and Junior’s going through some shit right now, and I-”

“Tucker.” Wash shuffled over until they were hip to hip, leaning into Tucker’s space. “I’m your boyfriend now. Just deal with it.”

Tucker blinked hard, then laughed loudly and kissed Wash firmly on his grinning mouth. “Okay. Cool. Cool. You’re my boyfriend. Awesome.”

Tucker stayed the night at Wash’s, texting Church to let him know as much and snorting loudly when Church sent him about fifteen eggplant emojis. He slept like a fucking rock, not shifting once all night as he succumbed to the exhaustion of nearly three weeks of bad sleep.

The following morning he found himself back at his own apartment, sitting on the couch and jiggling his leg nervously as he stared at his cell phone. He had to do it, he had to tell her. It was only fair, it was only right. But God, he was afraid of what she’d say. He snatched the phone up and dialed before he could change his mind, holding it up to his ear and taking deep breaths.

“Hi, sweetpea.”

“Mama, hey,” Tucker greeted, smiling at the sound of her voice. “Sorry I haven’t called in a while, I’ve been dealing with some stuff.”

“Oh, yeah? Everything alright?” Lavern asked, her voice soft and crackly over the receiver.

Tucker put her on speaker, since Church wasn’t at home at the moment (for once). He used his free hands to rub his face, taking a deep breath. “Mama, I gotta tell you something.”

“What happened?” Lavern’s voice was immediately more serious, the gentle lilt gone. Tucker winced.

“Nothing. Not really. Um. So, you remember Wash?”

“Of course I do. How is he? Is everything okay?”

Tucker bit down on his lips, holding his breath for a long few moments before letting it go in a rush. “…mama, I lied. I wasn’t dating Wash when we visited.”

Lavern was silent for a long time, and Tucker’s heart pounded against his chest as his mind began to race. “Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me the truth, honey?”

Tucker sighed, flopping back into the cushions and looking up at the ceiling. “I brought him so you’d think I was…doing okay. I guess. He’s really great, and has his life together, and I just thought it might be easier to get through if he was there.”

“I see,” Lavern said softly. “Vern, I’m so sorry you felt like you needed someone to get you through that visit. I had no idea it was that bad.”

“Mama, it’s fine, we already talked about that.” Tucker was surprised when he found he could have this conversation and his eyes weren’t stinging, nor was his throat trying to close up on him. “I just…I do love him, though, mom. And we talked and…we’re actually dating, for real, now. And I just wanted to come clean, y’know, it didn’t feel right. I’m sorry I lied. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I forgive you, sweetpea,” Lavern assured him, and Tucker thought he could hear a smile in her voice. “I’m glad you have someone that makes you feel safe. Even if it was a bit of a convoluted thing; you watch too many romantic comedies, boy.”

Tucker laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. Probably. So…are we okay?”

“We’ll always be okay. No matter what you do.”

Tucker smiled softly. “Thank you, mama. Love you.”

“I love you too,” Lavern told him genuinely, then paused. “So. Is that the stuff you’ve been dealing with?”

“Some of it. Junior’s having trouble with school, too. Carmen and I are in Code Red mode,” Tucker snorted. “It’s gonna be okay, though. I think he needs a new medication. Gonna make him a doctor’s appointment today.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it under control,” Lavern remarked fondly.

“Not without some help, but yeah,” Tucker laughed, smiling a little wider. “I’ve got this.”

“I’m proud of you, Lavernius. You’re a good dad to that boy.”

“I’m trying my damn hardest,” Tucker sighed. “…but thanks. I feel…good about it.”

“Good.”

They chatted for a bit more, Lavern telling him about funny things Freckles had done or gossip about her neighbors down the river. Soon Tucker had to cut it short, his list of shit to get done looming in the back of his mind. He hung up the call with a lighter heart, taking a cleansing breath before squaring his shoulders and making the rest of his calls.

Everything was gonna be okay. He was grabbing the reins of his life and taking control by force. He’d gotten this far on his own, and now he was going to get the rest of the way with help. With Church, with Carmen, with his mother.

With Wash.

***

“Dad, let’s get pizza for dinner.”

“Not today, dude,” Tucker said, shaking his head as Junior pouted. “Wash is coming for dinner, remember? We’re gonna make something bomb.”

“Oh yeah,” Junior remarked, like he’d forgotten already. “Cool. No vegetables, though.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m the boss,” Tucker smirked, snickering when Junior swatted him. “And second, I’m unfortunately dating a total health food nut, so you and I are both screwed.”

“Ewww,” Junior groaned, pulling a disgusted face.

“I know,” Tucker sighed with playful lamentation. “But we have to sacrifice, because he’s really cool otherwise.”

“That’s true, I guess.”

Tucker snickered and nudged his son playfully, then looked up at the knock on the door. “It’s open!” he called, getting to his feet.

The door swung open to reveal Wash, hands laden with grocery bags and a smile on his face. “Hey. Sorry I’m late, there was traffic.”

“No biggie.” Tucker approached while Wash was still slipping out of his shoes, standing up on his toes to peck his lips briefly. “Thanks for getting the stuff, I would have but I’ve had a crazy week.”

“It’s no problem,” Wash assured him with a warm smile. “Hey Junior,” he greeted as he followed Tucker into the kitchen.

“Hey, Wash!” Junior greeted brightly. “Do you wanna play Halo after dinner?”

“Yeah, sure, as long as your dad says it’s okay,” Wash nodded, smiling as he set the bags of ingredients on the freshly cleared counter space Tucker had cleaned ten minutes before he got there.

“Yeah, he did his homework already. ‘Cause he’s a champ,” Tucker grinned, holding up his hand for a high five and laughing when Junior slapped it super hard. “Ow.” Junior just snickered in response.

“Can I help?” he asked, peering at everything they were taking out.

“It’s okay, dude. Go play,” Tucker assured him. “We’ve got this.”

Junior shrugged and jogged back out to the living room, flopping down in front of the show he’d been watching.

“He seems to be adjusting to the new meds. Mood is better,” Wash commented. Tucker almost kissed him for noticing, but decided that was a little dramatic.

“Yeah, he is,” he said instead, beaming as he filled a large pot with water. “He’s back on track for the year, so now I’m just watching him like a hawk to make sure it stays that way.”

“Let me know if I can help, ever,” Wash reminded him, leaning to kiss his temple. Tucker’s smile was so wide it almost hurt his cheeks. “Helping him with homework and stuff, if you need a break.”

“Thanks, babe. I appreciate it,” Tucker told him sincerely, nudging him with his hip. He stepped away to pull up Spotify on his laptop; they always played music while they were cooking.

They sang a terrible duet to every song, hands and arms brushing as they washed and cut and cooked their food. While they were waiting for potatoes to boil Wash took Tucker’s hand, tugging him to the middle of the kitchen and spinning him in a circle. Tucker laughed loudly as he went, ending up with his arms around Wash’s neck and Wash’s around his middle.

“You big fucking sap,” Tucker teased, though he didn’t protest as Wash just grinned and shuffled them in a slow circle like they were at fucking prom. Tucker laughed again but more quietly, pressing his cheek to Wash’s chest. The song played gently in the background, drifting over them both as they just enjoyed the moment for what it was; peaceful, a bit clumsy, and a lot perfect.

_Hold me closer, tiny dancer_   
_Count the headlights on the highway_   
_Lay me down in sheets of linen_   
_You had a busy day today._

_\- Tiny Dancer, Elton John_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. I can't believe it's over! Thank you so much to everyone that has commented and kudos'ed and reblogged or just looked at this thing that consumed my brain. This is the first time I've finished something of this size (as in, longer than a oneshot) in ten years, and I'm so incredibly thrilled to have this story out in the world.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @comefeedtherainn anytime, and thank you all so much again for the love you've shown me and this fic! <3


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